Take the Scenic Route

Digital Detritus

2009-04-07T22:22:00.003+12:00

It's been, like a while. The fickle finger of technology has swung. As noted today, Microsoft's Encarta is dead, and for many people, social networking replaced blogs. Certainly, that explains my absence form here. Things like facebook make it much easier to share experiences and photographs with friends. Hell, I was reminiscing earlier about the days when people made websites to share photos on and stuff on. And actually, I still edited the raw html to make this site how I liked it. That's all expedited these days. It was also funny thinking that I'd taken those photographs with a film camera, scanned them in, and then reduced the resolution so that they wouldn't take too long to load on dial-up.

And so that got me to thinking, will twitter start to supplant facebook, sooner than we all expect? I felt a strange kind of buzz sending my first tweet from my phone. Suddenly able to pass random comment on something I'd seen, and then see a bunch of responses to it when I arrived into the office. And yet, its also nice writing a long rambling introspective post here, despite the fact that no-one may ever read it.

Luna Rossa

2007-08-28T22:56:00.000+12:00

Got a good pic of the eclipse, in between some clouds

Size isn't everything (Apparently)

2007-06-09T14:05:00.000+12:00

So I'm writing this on a 22" widescreen monitor, which has turned up in advance of my new computer. Unfortunately, my old computer doesn't understand widescreen resolutions at all, so I'm just looking at it big and stretchy. And some bits are really quite quite blurry. I knew that my old (work) box sucked. But not this bad. Oh well. Only a few days. Hopefully. It's just annoying having this big cool monitor that is really just a paperweight for the time being.

Countries visited

2007-04-05T13:35:00.001+12:00

create your own visited country map

This would look a lot less impressive if Hong Kong and Macau weren't Special Administrative Regions of China.

Coincidence? Or Something More Mysterious?

2007-02-09T14:43:00.000+13:00

Here's one for the mastercard guy.

New Plymouth.
Paritutu.
A certain manufacturing facilty.
Obscured by Cloud.

Clocks, The Clocktower, and Delusions of Grandeur

2007-01-22T10:38:00.000+13:00

Tee-hee. You can see the new plywood clock in the registry building on the campus weather station page. Apparently, it is the first time the clock has been serviced since it was installed in 1931. But was is really odd is that construction of the Clocktower building began in 1879, meaning there was a clocktower for nearly 50 years containing no clock.

Of course this isn't entirely unusual. In those days, it wasn't unusual for magnificent buildings to be only half completed. Rather than reduce the cost of the overall design, they'd just half build something, on the assumption that people would find more money to finish the job later. In fact, wandering around the geology building behind the clocktower, it's extremely obvious that it was designed to be extended in both directions, as the end walls are brick, rather than the breccia and limeston finish of the sides of the building.

Possibly the craziest in Dunedin is the cathedral in the Octagon, however. It is the only church (certainly of its size) in New Zealand to have a full stone-vaulted roof, which of course goes very nicely with its flying buttresses. Originally, it was intended to be a classic cross shaped design, with chapels off either side at the end away from the Octagon. However, due to budgetary contraints, only the nave (the main 'wing') was ever constructed. Eternally optimistic, however, it had a corrugated iron 'shed' for the chancel (although it looked, I'm told, flasher inside). In the late 60s, it was finally realised that there was never going to be a crossing (or indeed, I think there may have been a clocktower over the chancel in the original plans, much like many UK cathedrals). Thus, if you go round the back of the neo-gothic cathedral in Dunedin, you'll find that the backend is a lovely modernist concrete edifice (but probably much better than most of the campus buildings of that period).

Student Antics

2006-11-05T17:30:00.000+13:00

Amid all the hullabaloo over the new student code of conduct, and the rioting, couch-burning, and bottle-throwing, I've been wondering what has changed. However, I had a small ephiphany on Friday morning when I saw this.

Sure, damming a flood-prone river isn't entirely unstupid, but there's a decent amount of initiative in this. And you have to admire the sheer audacity of this enterprise. I particularly like the way they've used the tarpaulin to line the dam, and I'm equally impressed at the size of the rocks they have holding the tarp down.

You get a better perspective of how much water it's holding back from the downstream angle.

And that's it in a nutshell. There's nothing audacious, novel or funny in burning a couch, or throwing bottles at people. There wasn't anything too amusing about the skip fire in Grange Street last week, so close to a house that it melted the spouting and cracked the upstairs windows. Student life in Dunedin has become a Marc Ellis cliché.

I have very fond memories of my own foolish hijinks. I haven't burnt a couch, but I did drive one up Baldwin Street in a trailer (absolutely not recommended!). It's probably not over-prudent to list more remiss things, but they weren't always legal, and they weren't always safe. But I would like to think that they were funny, or at least, had the potential to be so.

[Driving up is the easy part. If you try to back a trailer down such a steep street, it's very prone to jack-knifing. There's also not a lot of turning room, and taking the trailer off would be ill-advised.]

The great Flying Saucer Hoax springs to mind. Students going home for the holidays meticulously planned a serious of sightings to produce a trajectory across New Zealand (follow the link and scroll down for a map and planned sighting times). 'Operation Berlin', an foiled attempt to brick up the front entrance to Selwyn also deserves credit. It would have perhaps been completed, if it weren't for an RA sneaking back in.

Signal Hill Fire II

2006-10-02T21:52:00.000+13:00

Errr, so despite the 'day' of the fire being the one day I didn't have my camera at work, I drove past the road cordon on the way back to learn matrix multiplication that evening. The area was so cordoned off that even my old Dundas St flat was beyond 'the pale'.

After a (late) night's successful algebra (and mastering of the the RV Coefficient), there wandered past the mobile command on Alhambra Ground (that's the Opoho one, not the Union Ground on Dundas). Even got right up close to a monsoon bucket. PVC, and with an apparent capacity of 600L

Then, super conviently from my perspective, but maybe not from the fire service's, th a wind change re-flared the fire on Saturday night. This time, Opoho, Logan Park High School, and the Fever Hospital were more at risk. However, it was an extremely social time for the suburb, with everybody joining in to watch...

Nice action shot.

It was also quite amazing the way each helicopter (there were up to 5) had a different loop and different refilling loop.

Muff Monkey's Ex-Residence Evacuated

2006-09-28T22:00:00.000+12:00

Nothing like the school holidays. Time to spend time with your friends getting up to no good. Nothing like playing with matches.

I was a bit of a pyro in my youth, but nothing like a 10 hectare blaze to get the heart racing. Luckily, it didn't threaten much, just the old Fever Hospital (onetime home to the Muff) and Palmer's Logan Point Quarry (better known as the set for Vaseline Warriors). Quite spectacular viewing from the 8th floor here. Just would be the day that I didn't have my camera with me. Even the stretch of Dundas Street by my old flat was cordoned off, but only the Fever Hospital was evacuated.

Not Not-Chocolate

2006-07-14T15:16:00.000+12:00

In a fit of insanity, or at least terrible timing, I bought a car days before I went overseas. Even more conveniently, I bought it pretty much in the Rakaia Gorge. And took it for a test drive through the Rakaia Gorge. Buying a car might seem like an odd, nay sifty, thing to do, but might not come as a surprise to those who know that I also picked my last car out of a paddock up that way.

My car on the left...

Oddly enough, it's pretty much the same car as the one that it replaces, a Toyota Carib. A toyota corolla station-wagon with 4WD. Kind of like a Subaru Legacy, but not so prone to eye-watering repair bills, and rather less thirsty.

Being as busy as I was, driving for 3 and a half hours each direction to do a test drive and purchase was less than averagely genius, but that's just when it happened to arrive. And then there was quite a bit of ground fog, so the driving was hard work as well.

Uncle Dom's wasn't open, so opted for a "cheeseburger" from the chippie. Oddly enough, in Methven, a "burger" may be made from pita bread, and served in tinfoil. Twas good though. Pur-chased gaskranken and V in Timmergroove, and back to Dunedin by midnight.

I took the old one down for a Warrant today, in preparation for selling it. Everything went sweet, but it was a pretty nostalgic drive. Worse, when I was preparing a for-sale poster, I came across this picture.

I've done some awesome and crazy things in that car. It's been places most people wouldn't take their SUVs. It looks pretty cool in the is picture as well...

Trinken...

2006-06-13T08:45:00.000+12:00

It's very interesting seeing the way other cultures work. Especially fascinating is seeing hard liquor not just in supermarkets, but also in petrol stations. Of course, not only can you just pop into the servo for bourbon at midnight, you could also pur-chase a bottle of Moet, if the mood takes you. Rather different to the 11 o'clock swill in the UK as well.

South of the Bombays

2006-05-29T13:58:00.000+12:00

Nice work from the Herald, illustrating how removed some people in Auckland can be from the rest of the country.

Skifields open early

5.00am Monday May 29, 2006

Skiers and snowboarders got a welcome surprise yesterday as the first of the New Zealand's skifields opened.

Mt Dobson skifield, in central Marlborough, opened its fields.

.....

I guess Mackenzie and Marlborough both start with "M"...

Great news for Dobson though...

A Mandate

2006-04-30T14:22:00.000+12:00

No, a Mandate. Not a ManDate. With the increased price of Gaskranken, I've been starting to wander whether some Scenic Detours might be moving toward not just scenic, but economic sense. That is, if a minor route is significantly shorter, but with a poorer quality of road, then it might just make sense to take that route over the main road.

I tested this theory out over the easter break, so there will be a full-ish report soon, considering whether there might be more scenic ways to save fuel.

What's in a name?

2006-04-21T18:57:00.000+12:00

Just popped back in to the office after my extended easter holiday, and I now have my name engraved in plastic and screwed to my door...

Seventy Dollar

2006-04-02T23:45:00.000+12:00

So it's been a while. A very busy while.
Doubtless there's an argument that I should write something thought-provoking.
Instead, I'm going to whine about the exchange rate, but also be thankful for driving an economical car. I put $70.07 worth of petrol in my car tonight, something I've never done before. I remember, once, back in the good old days thinking that even if it was right empty, I'd never get $50 in.

Pretty weird times. And also weird because over the last while I think we've got used to things always getting cheaper. But I think that time might be over. Pity the fool that dreamed up the whare's Price Rollback marketing strategy. Rolling the price back up won't seem so fun, although perhaps they won't advertise that the same.

Anyway, a picture paints a thousand words. The exchange rate dropped pretty steadily for four odd years, then climbed for a while, screwed round last year, and is not on the wrong side of the lines...

Off

2006-01-26T16:36:00.000+13:00

Busy isn't the word for it. Tomorrow is my last day of work in the place that has increasingly become my domain over the last 10 years.
I'm putting on my first afternoon tea (seriously, as if I'd do a morning tea for myself -- I'd probably miss it!) for my on farewell...

Giant Jenga

2005-12-15T14:21:00.000+13:00

I deeeear yew to pull one of these sticks out

That's what this old house is sitting on

This building was where I would have, in theory, written most of my thesis, it having contained my lab for three years. However, due to the power of information technologies, I wrote most of it in my bedroom. I did however spend a lot of time there, mostly doing statistics and staring out the window, watching the kakariki come and go.

It's going walkabout, as I suspect is evident from the truck thrust through its basement. Only about 30m, but to prepare a building platform in case they decide to extend the building behind it. The truck and trailer unit is extremely impressive. Each of the four sets of axles on the trailer are on hydraulic arms that have a range of around 2m, and each wheel can be turned independent of the rest. Thus, although the truck was driving up a hill to pull the house out, the house stayed flat, and the wheels slowly folded and unfolded to keep it that. way.

The hill is not too obvious here, but you can see the way the wheels fold down to keep the house level.

Tasty

2005-12-13T13:00:00.000+13:00

Did you know that various Porphyra species grow in New Zealand, perhaps better known as 'Nori'. And that nori is shredded, dried, and then made like paper to become the nori for making sushi? I didn't. No porphyra is commercially harvested in New Zealand, as it turns out, but maybe one day I'll try making my own.

A couple of weeks ago, I went out to the New Zealand Marine Studies Centre at Portobello Marine Laboratories, to a 'tasting'. Now I'm a fairly veteran wine 'taster' (one shouldn't confuse 'taster' with 'lush'), but I've never been to a seaweed tasting before. It's always pretty amusing seeing the 'obsessions' of other scientists. I think making 'cookies' with seaweed flour is fairly up there, but, in fairness, they were delicious (although not noticeably seaweed flavoured).

After a brief introductory talk about how to find, harvest, and prepare seaweed, along with a detour into the fascinating, and slightly weird, lives of seaweed, we were taken down to the aquarium. Those who have been there will know about the 'touch pools' which are sort of shallow rock pools full of anenmones and starfish which you can reach in and 'interact' with. Well, on this particular night, around 20 different types of seaweed had been strewn through the pools for sampling. I don't think I've ever been to a buffet with live starfish in it before. Apparently all seaweed is edible, although we were advised to avoid taking seaweed from near any sources of polution. There is also one type of seaweed which has a rather unique talent of being able to manufacture its own sulphuric acid, which it stores in its cell walls. Technically it is edible, although with a pH of 2, it's about on par with the acid in your stomach, and is, I am reliably informed, better used for pickling than eating raw. The variety in texture, flavour and appearance was extremely impressive. Some I would consider using as garnishes, or fresh in salads.

Following the raw buffet, we adjourned inside for a variety of cooked exemplars. This ranged from muffins and biscuits, to commercial chutneys, salads, and kelp chips. The chips were a lot like eating potato chips, and Mr Speight came to the party with some Pilsener. Mmmmm.

One Year...

2005-11-29T22:07:00.000+13:00

But life is so busy that I've hardly had time to make note of yet another milestone/change

Panoramic!

2005-11-23T16:20:00.000+13:00

So after purchasing my camera waaay back in July, I've finally acquired the appropriate software and memory card to do panorama shots, and voila!

This is the view from the stairwell outside my (current) office. Yes, I know it's a bit big, but it's cooler this size....

I also note that this is my 100th post (and it must be pretty close to a year as well??). And for my flickr friends, there might be a few more panoramas there....

Affective Forecasting...

2005-11-15T13:07:00.000+13:00

Affective Forecasting is your ability to predict how you feel at some future time. Incidentally, affect is the word that the hip and cool use to refer to moods/emotions. And by hip and cool, I probably mostly mean psychologists. Technically speaking Affect refers to shorter durations than Mood, and an affective state may be the combination of a variety of emotions. Essentially, you could construe it as the sum total of how you feel *now* or at some other point in time.

Sometime last year I got a free lunch at the Green Acorn to meet with a visiting expert on affective forecasting. Her particular angle was looking at the how reasoning affected your ability to forecast your affect, and I got the free lunch having done some work looking at how reasoning affects some other things. As might be expected, it turns out that we're generally pretty crap at affective forecasting. Effortful activities, in particular, tend to be perceived as less likely to make us happy. So think like going to the gym, going out etc contrasted with staying at home and having a quiet night in. There's nothing too surprising about this. By the late 70s, some scientists were starting to question the validity our introspective processes, and increasingly it appears that although we might think we have access to our own thoughts, it appears that there is a lot of stuff that we don't have access to, and that that stuff can be quite important. Oftentimes, making a quick decision based on a gut feeling is better than listing pros and cons, or even talking about the basis for the decision.

But I digress. (How unusual). There have been a few notable times recently where I've been very unenthused about leaving the house, but surprised at how good leaving the house has been. On Saturday night, I'd had a few glasses of wine[1] and finished watching Frontier of Dreams. Somehow or other, I managed to make a snap decision to go see The Bats, with Operation Rolling Thunder. It was fantastic, and needless to say, I'm starting to question the validity of my affective forecasting. And the no-smoking-in-bars fucking rocks.

Note.
[1] Selaks Premium Selection Pinot Noir 2004, highly recommended, especially if you can get it for under $10. I'm not usually a fan of Marlborough Pinots, but this was all types of good. A real sense of lush cheery balanced with some savoury and bordering on chocolate tones. Oh, and by 'recommended', I took all of Pak'n'Slave's shelf stock at $9.95 (usuallly $15).

Too sad for words

2005-11-07T13:07:00.000+13:00

Like most people, I couldn't quite believe that Rod Donald had died. In fact, we had a fairly uncharitable discussion over dinner about which MPs would have seemed more likely candidates for an untimely death.

My earliest memories of him relate to MMP. I gave a pro-MMP speech in English in Fourth Form, which was probably one of the least intelligible but well delivered speeches presented to RZ, and managed to convince a few oldies of my acquaintance that MMP was a good thing. Then he was campaign co-ordinator for the Alliance candidate in the Selwyn by-election, which was just up the road at the time.

So, ummm, yeah. I don't really have anything to say, so I'll leave you with a picture of some compost.

D'oh!

2005-10-27T10:50:00.000+13:00

Apparently two Australian tourists attempted to use the Sat-Nav in their car to get from Christchurch top Nelson and ended up going through the Rainbow Road. Now I *love* the Rainbow Road. It's a classic bit of New Zealand back-country goodness, originally built for the construction of a High Voltage Transmission line. It's also New Zealand's highest public road, prone to snow, landslips, and for the most part four-wheel-drive track come grave-road. Exactly the kind of place you'd expect me to take a Scenic Detour through. So naturally, I've been through twice, once on mountain bike, and once in a four wheel drive. I would probably take my car through there (although the last time I was there heavy rain had washed out the fords sufficiently that I don't think I'd have the ground clearance), but the other major problem is that there is a locked gate at the far end (and it's a fairly industrial gate on a piece of the road with a bank on one side and a drop to the river on the other, so the chances of getting around it are close to nil).

I still can't quite get over how funny this is. Or how stupid they were not to turn back by St James Station. Or to consider looking at the ubiquitous glovebox map. D'oh.

... So I've been busy

2005-10-26T16:01:00.000+13:00

... And it's spring. And I've been outside. Like you're supposed to when it's sunny.
Although it is true that when I've been inside I have sometimes not been working as hard as I should, sometimes playing space invaders, and as of today, cricket. Goddam flash games. Although the space invaders one also made me download a C-64 emulator the other night, so that I could play Eagle Empire, one of my first games I ever played.

You'll also notice the lack of agency in these statements: that is, they made me. However, as a weird byproduct of that recent event, and arguing in stupid places that I refuse to link to, I've moved a little bit further down the behaviourist/determinist end of the spectrum. Especially with stupid things suggesting that ex-students would determinedly plug their tax cuts savings into their loans.

In fact, the cynic in me is starting to believe that classical liberals are following a fairly well-known psychological phenomenon, that people attribute their own success to internal factors (and their failures to external factors). Thus, because their `will-power' has made them so successful, they think that everyone, no matter what their background, has the power to use their free-will to better themselves. Anyway, you can probably see where this argument is going. And I'm sick of it. So resigned as I am to a lack of free-will, I'm going to return to work, or cricket, whichever my learning history dictates.

A hole where the Snow should have been

2005-10-07T12:46:00.000+13:00

I'm not sure when I last went for a whole season without skiing at all. It may be that it might have happened once during my time as a poor undergraduate, or it may go back pre-high school, when I hadn't really got into it yet. Occasionally, over the last few winters I have contemplated not going, because it seemed like such an effort, but having finally got round to it, I've been so glad that I did. It really is an experience like nothing else.

This year has been a bit different. Been knocked around a bit healthwise (in fact my jaw is still allegedly "fragile"), and it must just about have been the crappest season ever. I can remember some skinny years, but they'd usually be a monster dump in late august or something. But it seems not so this year.

I intend for this year to be little more than a brief aberration, and I'd like to see anyone try to stop me next year.

Watching the Watchers...

2005-10-02T23:06:00.000+13:00

It seems the watchers don't mind being watched. There are a few pockets of high-resolution imagery on Google's Satellite Imagery, including over a certain valley near Blenheim.

It looks much more amusing, and somewhat more suspicious by night, however.

What? Why are you even asking what I was doing there after dark? Sheesh. Especially when there are much more important issues to hand. I'll get back to you when I've worked out what these are.

Locums...

2005-09-30T16:31:00.000+12:00

I got a certain magazine today, and being the diligant reader that I am, I eventually noticed this rather drab advertisement for locum doctors.

What I couldn't get over, is how much this group of young doctors resembles all the young doctors of my acquaintance. I've always been really impressed with how they keep their work/life balance so well, managing to spend a lot of time at the gym and sun-tanning, in addition to their high-stress caffeine-fuelled existance...

Damn...

2005-09-27T15:00:00.000+12:00

The Kakariki is back. Actually, I have acheived a few things since it was last here, but it still doesn't feel like very long ago (and I think the other tanker has been in and out since)

Waipara II

2005-09-26T18:13:00.000+12:00

Better write this before it goes completely stale. Following our night in the guardsvan, and a delicious breakfast, I got about assembling the bikes. Towbars are expensive (c$300), so I've never quite got round to getting one, and the wanky roof-rack bike holders are no cheaper, so they were in bits in the boot. We then set off for a little ride around Waipara. Ideal really, as it is (like most of Canterbury) rather flat.

Our first stop was Athena Olive Grove, where we picked up some subtley lemon-infused olive oil. The road to there runs parallel with the Weka Pass Railway line [1]. Being a designated sunday, the Express was all fired-up, and we saw it come flying past as we rolled back toward the village.

We then went on to visit Torlesse, and then had a slightly more energetic ride up to Waipara Springs. On the way, we passed a small cemetery, with an oddly ornate gate thing, which rather reminded me of Sutton's "Norwester in the cemetery". Our last stop was at Mt Cass, and we then had some lunch in the grass, enjoying the warmth of the sun and light drunkeness. The pick of the wines tasted was the Black Estate Young Vines Pinot noir. Mmmmmmm. Derishous

[1] The Weka Pass Railway is the remains of a branch railway line that ran inland to Waikari, and on past Culverden to the Red Post. Originally, there had been some thought that they would continue it on roughly along the Inland Kaikoura Road (well worth the trip) to Kaikoura, and that it would be the main trunk line. However, the coastal railway backers won through in the end, and so there was quite a long branch line going nowhere much. It was used for the train scenes in Snakeskin, one of the few bits not filmed around Methven.

Politics Test...

2005-09-26T12:35:00.000+12:00

No real surprise here...

You are a
Social Liberal
(80% permissive)

and an...
Economic Liberal
(21% permissive)

You are best described as a:

Socialist

Link: The Politics Test on Ok Cupid

Waipara

2005-09-18T20:03:00.000+12:00

So it turns out that blogging isn't so dissimiliar from my previous diarying experiences (a little bit during high school). When life is most interesting and note-worthy, there's the least time to get round to writing about it.

So anyway, a couple of weekend's ago, we got out of town away to Canterbury, staying in Lyttelton and then Waipara. We stayed at Waipara Sleepers, in an old converted Guardsvan. Extremely cool. Better yet, freshly laid eggs and fresh bread in the morning. Mmmm, perfectly poached eggs with my espresso in the morning, sitting on the Guardsvan deck.

The kitchen facilities are in the 'railway station' in the background.

Still complete with many of there original fittings, there probably aren't many more unique places to stay in New Zealand. For any train buffs/interesteds, there are a few more pictures on Flickr.

More from Waipara later...

A bit Wonka-y....

2005-09-10T11:36:00.000+12:00

Caution: Spoiler (Charlie and the Chocolate Factory) and Rant below

It's a little while since I've had a rant. I would strongly discourage anyone who has yet to see Charlie and the Chocolate Factory from reading further. It has had numerous excellent reviews, and the person I went with really liked it. As you might guess, I really didn't. Which was odd, as I'm not usually overly critical of movies or books.

To me, there were two big things wrong with this movie. Firstly, although the '71 classic is called Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, this is the one that is all about Willy Wonka. Worse, Willy Wonka is all about the Edward Scissorhands and not about the Roald Dahl. Which brings me to my second point: while technically this version is more true to the book, it is completely not true to the Dahl essence.

The essence of much of Dahl's work was the ordinary/unfortunate/sometimes ostracised child finding out that they possessed a special talent or meeting someone extraordinary who saw their internal goodness in a way others did not (e.g., Charlie & the C.F., Danny the Champion of the World, Matilda, The B.F.G.). Overcoming the odds and triumphing (see also The Witches, Fantastic Mr Fox) is also often a key element, and the success/revenge is frequently macarbely satisfying (sort of the ideal revenge fantasy). This is a formula which Ms. Rowling uses to excellent effect. Burton's first failure is imbuing the movie with a fairytale feel. I suspect Dahl would rather approve of Christopher Lee's character, and Willy's childhood appliance, but to have Wonka Snr.'s house disappear in a movie with no ostensibly actual magic elements was just wrong. Further, the bucket house is just a ridiculous misplaced fairytale element in a brutal city of terraced houses (although strangely remniscent of the inventor's house nestled in suburbia in that other Burton movie). Overall I loved the aesthetic of the city: dark, grim, industrial. I also thought (partly just in the colouring) that the Factory was very reminscent of metropolis. Actually, the bucket house reminds me a bit of Rotwang's Laboratory (shapewise, plus the discord with surroundings). I'm also deeply confused by the description of the movie as "dark". It is neither as dark as Dahl or the Wilder's Willy (heh). Rather than being deliciously implied, the misfortune's that befell the other children were fairly obviously under Willy's control. I think it also goes completely against the grain to have made it so obvious that the other children were alright. We did not need to know that the furnace was in fact broken, and seeing the other children leave the factory little worse for wear seems to defeat the whole point. Hrumph.

In some ways, I think I was rather disadvantaged. I had never seen Edward Scissorhands until a couple of years ago, so it is perhaps fresher for me than most. However, I was disarmed about how alike the two were. I won't go into too much detail, but I found the personality of Willy Wonka deeply inconsistent, alternating between smart-aleccy elements (ala Wilder) and a Scissorhands-like uncertainty.

That's it in a nutshell. There was some truly great stuff. I loved a lot of the visual imagery, the Bedford Wonka Lorries, and the re-characterisation of the children. Charlie was great. There was just a little too much of Tim Burton.

Archaeology is the New Black

2005-09-09T10:20:00.000+12:00

Archaeology is the new black. Apparently. Or perhaps communication (in which case why did I leave that building?).

So yes. It's a bit disappointing. I think this could have made a nice sort of matt black, or at least a sort of shale grey:

Sensory science studies of aroma and flavour emphasise chemosensory properties of wine as the dominant source for judgments about wine quality. Smells and tastes are percepts that do not exist outside of the human observer, however, so an analysis of wine judgment that emphasises only chemosensory properties is incomplete. According to recent studies of the way that wine is perceived and judged, the sensory experience of wine is ambiguous and may be open to interpretation, with marked individual differences among even wine experts. Therefore, wine memory and perception are likely to be predominantly influenced by processes of construction and interpretation. Further, wine drinking or tasting is typically a social experience, and the ambiguous nature of wine allows a powerful influence by social factors, which have not been explored. The novel question of our proposal is whether wine judgements are subject to memory illusions and social influence. We propose to apply some classic procedures that can reveal distortions in normal memory over time and the influence of social situations on perception, in order to demonstrate memory illusions and social contagion in wine judgements and memory.

Oh well. Perhaps next time. Or some other dream.

Hit the Road, (telephone) Jack...

2005-08-28T10:49:00.000+12:00

Before I ramble, I'd like to point out for any one that was interested in 15 minute charge batteries that I was writing about a few weeks back, that they are available for substantially less (e.g., $70 for 4 batteries plus the 4 battery charger) at Placemakers, of all the odd places. I can also report that I'm *extremely* happy with them. I've been using the camera a lot, and I've only recharged them once so far.

So placemaker's eh. (Hmmm, that reminds me of a picture I should take for a future post). A long-running feature of my sunday mornings has been hardware shopping. The buses don't start running early enough on Sundays for L* to take the bus to work, so I drop her, and then end up uptown, dressed, half-awake, half-dazed at 8:30 in the morning. Much as going straight home and back to bed is tempting, it's not really as good as it might seem*.

Thus, I typically end up at the South D. Warehouse perhaps, or go to Woolworths or Pak'n'Slave for wine specials. Heh. The Warehouse is particularly odd at 8:30. Almost completely unlike how it is later in the day, and I think the staff find a) actually having a customer, and b) one there on a mission, somewhat disconcerting. And then on to the hardware stores, to pick up various tools or things I think I need for the weekend's projects.

I'm actually very excited this weekend, as there is sort of a core of things on the top of my to-do list that stay there week after week, while things at the bottom of the list come and go. Yesterday, I managed to finally install a phone jack in the study. Which in some ways is quite odd. After years of flatting, I have at least 3 10m phone extension cords, and multiple double and triple phone plugs. And they're now all redundant. However, it is great not having the cord running down the hall anymore.

* Back in the day, when I was in first year, my now boss used to give a lecture on the paradox that is sleep. That is to say, scientists reckon they have a reasonable idea of why we sleep (effectively because we can't see in the dark so being active is pointless), and we've sort of adapted to the point that some sort of odd maintenance functions might occur while we're asleep (so, perhaps dreaming is memory consolidation) and in some ways our body's have adjusted to the sleeping thing from a rest perspective. And while sleep deficit exists (that is, if you don't sleep, you get tired and need to catch up), you don't actually need to catch up the full amount you've missed at all. I wish work was like that! And then there is the habitful element. That sleep is most satisfying when you get up and go to bed at the same time everyday (which somewhat undermines the idea that there is a certain amount of sleep needed). But I digress...

Kakariki

2005-08-24T10:02:00.000+12:00

The Kakariki is largest vessel registered in New Zealand. It follows an approximately fortnightly schedule from Marsden Point to distribute petroleum products around New Zealand. Faintly visible behind the funnel is the orange "lifeboat". I put liferaft in scare quotes because it is quite unlike a conventional lifeboat. It is more like a small submersible. In the event of a fire the crew are all to board the craft. The seats have not just seatbelts, but full harnesses, and the craft is fully water-tight once the door is shut. The boat is launched by something that looks not dissimilar to a handbrake. The effect is to release the lifeboat which then slides from quite a height down a ramp, at which point it is launched into mid-air. The ramp is designed to throw it as far as possible, and the boat should skid and bounce along the surface some distance from landing as well. Hence the harnesses and watertight doors. Of course, was an entire boat full of petrol and diesel to catch fire, one would want to get as far away as possible, as quickly as possible.

The Kakariki and its sister ship (a slightly smaller vessel) are important to me, as they serve as markers of the passage of time. Since my old lab moved at the start of 2001, my lab, and later office, both have had a view of this part of the harbour, and it frequently disturbs me how often it seems like no time has passed before they return.

I'm sure there is probably some practical reason, but in these times of increasingly expensive fuel, I also wonder how long it will be before ships start to draw power from land when they are in port. The ship isn't setting sail, but belching that much smoke while tied up and stationary. I'm sure that there are some practical issues relating to the charging for electricity used, the proximity to water, voltage differences, and potentially the amount of electricity a ship this size might require, but still. Interestingly, airlines are increasingly recognising the fuel inefficiency of using aircraft engines more than they can help. Planes are now increasingly plugged in, and also towed away from the terminal, rather than moving out under their own power...

The Roof is on Fire...

2005-08-22T15:22:00.000+12:00

Arrived home on Saturday evening to see a whole heap of smoke coming from down in the valley. Not just the usual smog-inducing coal smoke, but a real column of filthy black smoke. I was tempted to ring 111, but I couldn't quite work out what street it was on, and I figured with that much smoke surely someone else would have called first. It was slightly disarming about how slow the arrival of the first appliance was. The Willowbank station is not that many blocks away, and it's permanently manned. Pretty gutting for those involved I'd imagine.

Undie 500

2005-08-21T11:59:00.000+12:00

I haven't actually known anybody involved in the Undy since about 1998, when er, The Virgin Mary's Catholic School for Girls arrived for a visit. However, it's always entertaining to see, and one year I was even driving north as they headed south.

There were some great great vehicles this year, including a Barrel of Monkeys -- a van that had actually been made into a barrel. The art of cooperage is not yet dead.

Thomas the Tank'd Engine was also pretty cool

This Mytre 10 one was also fairly amusing.

There'll be a few more on the photoblog eventually, including the Penguin Hunting Corporation...

Mint

2005-08-17T15:50:00.000+12:00

Somewhat sadly, my current car does have a plethora of stupid claims and acronyms on it. EFI, 4WD, "height control" etc.

However, if I still had The Surrealist Banana MkII, I'd <3 this sticker:

Better than mags or lame spoilers any day...

At the beach...

2005-08-15T14:08:00.000+12:00

I know some of you may be shocked to discover that I have an over-accumulation of annual leave. It won't make a great dint in it, but I have taken the day off to extend my break on an east coast beach.

My family's always been a bit odd. When going on holiday, people usually have to arrange for someone to feed their pets. Not in my family. We always had to arrange someone to do the watering. Which is a slightly more fickle task. If there's a decent amount of rain, it doesn't really need to done, whereas a dog will still need to be fed, no matter how much rain has fallen. I guess some cats might be able to survive on a caught bird or rabbit, but not every cat still has that capability, or even realises that they can eat things that they've caught. So part of my job while I'm up here is to visit my parents and do some watering...

There are other perks to being away from a city. You'd be lucky to find a '97 Cab Sauv in a bargain bin for under $15....

Enlightened Self Interest... Or Zen and the Art of Car Maintenance

2005-08-13T13:10:00.000+12:00

The day before I went in for surgery, I discovered that my Warrant of Phatness was due to expire. And although generally speaking, my car is not that phat, having a warrant is not a bad thing. Unfortunately, it failed for some relatively minor, but somewhat expensive issues. Like $100 part that cost over $500 to install (Most of the front subframe of the car had to be be removed to take it out, because the steering rack and intake manifold were preventing access from above.

There was also an apparent exhaust leak. I say apparent, because my mechanic had trouble locating it. That is, the 'leak' was signified by a small carbon deposit rather than escaping exhaust gas. He had a bit of a go with a welder, but when I got it back to the testing station last night, just after 5 o'clock, it turned out that he'd probably made an actual hole with the welder. Grrrr. And of course, everywhere was shutting up, and as I went round the few open places this morning, they were all busy. And I'm supposed to be going to the crib for the next couple of days.

So I came back home, and tried google, wikipedia, and a few other internet dark arts to find a home fix. At which point I thought, "Repco!". The people there are very helpful, which is to be commended. They once told me that I should use a screwdriver instead of an oil filter wrench. I couldn't work out how to use the screwdriver, as the oil filter is round and smooth, so went back and asked. "Just grab a hammer and bash the screwdriver throught it". You see, you just biff the old oil filter, so irreparably damaging it in the process of removing it is no big problem. Incidentally, it's quite sort of kinky. On my old car, you had to slide underneath it to get room to swing the hammer. And you have to run the car to make the oil hot (and hence more liquid) before you drain the oil and take the filter off. So as soon as you bash the screwdriver in, you have quite hot oil everywhere, especially running down the screwdriver, down the arm you're holding it with, and down your shirt.

But I digress. Helpful Repco person directed me to 'exhaust bandages'. It's fiberglass encased in some dodgy chemical that sets with heat, so basically you wrap it around the leak and then drive for a while to bake it on. Get home, jack car up, slide under, and can't even see the leak. Or any sign of welding. There was a bit that looked a bit black, so I decided that I'd 'fix' that, in case it was the leak, seeing as I had under an hour to get back to the testing station. The exhaust pipe was very hot, so I sprayed it with the mister I use for my seedlings to dry to cool it down. That seemed to work. For some odd reason, my exhaust pipe seems to be wrapped in some sort of shield, but the bolts look rusted on, so I decided not to remove them. Unfortunately, I figure this means that the bandage isn't going to seal properly, but am just like, "Ah, fuck it". And then accidentally smack my head on something for good measure. I do a tolerable job of wrapping it. It's quite hard, and quite hot, and there are a lot of crinkles, and I'm not too convinced it's sealed. Then you are supposed to secure it with wire (provided). Running out of time, so do a really half-arsed job.

There's a big queue at the testing station. The staff are clearly looking forward to going home. Seeing as mine only needs the one thing checked now, one of the staff comes out into the carpark, without putting the car over the pit. I'm not sure if he actually looked at/for the repair, but he definitely put a rag over the end of the pipe (if there is no leak, or only a very small hole, your hand gets pushed off by the pressure). It passes the rag test, so he decides it's fixed (without asking me what, if anything, I'd done to it). Phatness officially decreed. Aaaahhh, the joys of self interest...

I like to cook... II

2005-08-07T18:08:00.002+12:00

Not that cooking has been much fun the last few days, but I have at least had time to edit up these pics of my kitchen. Sadly, although there may be a number of bottles of rotted grape-juice in the following photograph, that's back off the menu, and I've been having a fairly liquid diet, revolving a lot around the blender. That is, bits of bread ripped up and soaked in soup, swallowed without chewing; and soggy weetbix. What passes for dinner has been gently fried fish (it flakes it small, swallowable bits), and polenta, which is pre-ground, so also doesn't really need chewing.

It's not the biggest kitchen, and does occasionally lack for benchspace during more elaborate preparations. I'd also disrecommend tiles as a benchtop, as cleaning between them can be a pain (We only made the mistake of kneading dough on the bench *once*; the ceramic cooktop is much more suitable). Although it's not extremely obvious in this photograph. the kitchen is most notable for it's abundance of red surfaces (such as the bench) and mirrors. There are, however, no mirrors on the ceiling.

One of the best things that we've done so far to improve the kitchen is this magnetic knife rack, which keeps all manner of implements very handy. Actually, I'm very impressed by the strength of the magnet. Some of those bigger knives are *quite* heavy. Although that is also what makes them good. A good knife makes chopping fun.

Surgery in 17minutes.

2005-08-04T11:40:00.000+12:00

Surgery in 17minutes. I have my copy of Harry that I've been saving. Although I'm now wondering if compelling reading might be bad thing.

Finntastic

2005-07-29T12:16:00.000+12:00

Whoever said puns were bad. Ahem. Anyway.

The town hall didn't *quite* sell-out, but that's still 2,500 odd punters. Interestingly, had they dropped the price $20, removed the seats (thereby increasing capacity to 3,500), perhaps they would have enticed some more young people along, but come away with the same money. However, I digress.

Those of you who know my musical tastes well will be aware that I'm frequently a little luke-warm on the recorded output of Finn the Younger. Which is not to say that I don't appreciate the abilities of the seemingly less dark and frivolous one. It just seems like somewhere there's a "If we make the mix a little bit blander we'll get more cross-over into pop" demon lurking. It's no surprise then that my most treasured Crowded House output is the live disc that came as an extra in some versions of the best-of. And live, this demon is well and truly put to bed.

Last night was no exception. They rocked hard, with Neil doing some welcome soloing. They had a piano on stage, which they took in turn for playing various numbers.

I'm also a big fan of deviating from the set-list. It makes it seem like somehow they're tailoring the concert to the audience, and that it's not an exact replica of all the other gigs. It would be nice to think that the moment of shirt removal and speaker-stack climbing by Mr Toogood is spontaneous, but my inner cynic is skeptical. And it was extra pleasing that the deviation was then dedicated to Mr Hester.

Gardening...

2005-07-27T21:47:00.000+12:00

The ungardening has more or less come to an end, which now leaves me in the position of having to work out where I should be 'gardening'. I've got quite a little collection for that purpose. Some I've bought, some I've grown myself, and some that I've acquired from my father and grandfather. I have quite a nice little collection of Hebe's that I've grown here.

Possibly a few too many. Mercifully, there seems to be a pattern in my family that men grow forests rather than retire, so perhaps I can palm some off on them.

Some of the more botanically astute of you might notice that some of the ones I acquired from my father and grandfather might grow rather big. In addition to manuka, kowhai, some miscellaneous pittosporum (pittospora? heh), but also rimu, matai, totara...

These some cool carex (tussock) from dad as well.

Sorry...

2005-07-20T15:11:00.000+12:00

I'm sure that many of you will be deeply disappointed. Over my lunch hour, as part of Dunedin's annual chocolate carnival (where Cadbury give back to the community) there was chocolate body art and girls-only chocolate wrestling. And I left my camera in my office. The wrestling, tastefully referred to as "Human Fondue" also featured, for the first time in its history, several three way contests. And you can guess how that was billed to the crowd ...

Chocolate was the winner at the end of the day.

Engrish

2005-07-18T14:34:00.000+12:00

Been shopping for an MP3 player/USB flashkey for L*, and one that has caught our attention has possibly the single best engrish in context I've ever seen.

OK, so it's a 512MB flash memory key that plays MP3s, but apparently it's also:
* The world's first drinkable flash key -- "A strong potable digi-mate for your picky minding"
* "MUSIC DISK ...is able to be powerful file storage with 400 bps/sec file exchange speed for work at day time. When it comes to the night time, just like a super hero, it switches to be a portable entertainment center. Jazz/Lounge relaxes your body and mind. Techno/Trance releases your desire to dance... It offers different emotional adjustment by music playing."

O'Rite Technology Co., Ltd

Seriously, go there and browse round, and find the blooming of warmth in your mind.

A snippet from a different page:
"Someone says, the land in winter, is not fit for the growing of love, but don't forget it ! We can use the energy of the music , irrigate the nursery garden of the love continuously."

Wheels

2005-07-17T23:45:00.000+12:00

So I know that some of you will find this amusing. No it's not mine. Surely you must credit me more taste than this.

I can't say I'm the biggest BMW fan, but this is just all types of wrong. The clear tail lights, the silver spoiler... This is someone who needs naming and shaming. Surely this has got to be one of the worst images on the web after those of she-who-shan't be named. And no mentioning her here, lest she google in.

These are my wheels. Far more appropriate. The thinking person's SUV. That is, it's not, but it is four-wheel drive. And going by past experience, getting stuck or not is a lot more to do with sensible driving than ground clearance or traction. But more about that in a scenic detour post...

And the motorbike. A wild child of my acquaintance told me a joke when they discovered I was learning to ride:

Q. What do doctors call motorcylists?
A. Organ donors.

Ummm, anyway, so thoughts of imminent death aside, motorbiking is a fabulous way to see the countryside in an intimate fashion.

De-gentrification

2005-07-16T13:37:00.000+12:00

It seems surprising in hindsight. I was absolutely shattered walking home after a long long day at work after too little sleep, having worked until after midnight the night before. It was brutally cold. The fire was warm. The wine was making me snoozy. I'm shocked I made it out of the house.

The promised snow down to 200m had not eventuated. And then, for some reason, I left my jacket in the car. Sad to say, but I've been becoming a leather jacket wearing guy standing at the back of the venue, nursing my drink.

But not tonight. I'd intended to take it pretty quietly. I was tired after all, and still recovering. However, fate had me back in the mosh. Not quite old-school prepared[1], but I at least wasn't wearing a 10cm wedge of pounamu (which is pretty brutal to run with, let alone jump). So, um, yeah. In case you hadn't worked out where this is going, it was fucking awesome. It reminded me of amazing concerts I've been to in the past, where you're existing just in the ecstatic moment, swimming in the music (I suspect the six sub-woofers either side of the stage may have played some role in this sensation). I didn't once think about the evil reviewer, or the work I was supposed to be doing this morning, or even realise how much my legs hurt. And man do they hurt today. Heh. I guess with having been sick and all I'm below average fitness, plus my legs kind of suck anyway, so I'm extra-sore this morning.

Despite some possibility that is might be a Wellington-only treat, they played Deb's Night Out in the encore. Unfortunately, I think the rest of the crowd were fairly underwelmed by this. However, it made at least one person *very* happy.

And then in time-honoured fashion [2], the moon was huge and golden and setting over the city as I arrived home. Unfortunately I didn't quite get the ideal exposure set before it started to go down. It was waay cooler than this pic reprezents.

[1] That is, I was wearing a watch, I'd made no attempt to attach my glasses to self (nothing like being in a wild mosh and attempting to catch glasses before they hit the floor...), I wasn't wearing particularly old clothes, and I didn't have my wallet in a plastic bag(!). Once upon a time, I found it amusing to wear a hypercolour t-shirt to gigs, for a visual indication of how 'good' the going was...

[2] Shihad concerts are frequently accompanied by amazing natural phenomena. For example, there was a magnitude 8+ earthquake during the encore at a gig in Invercargill a couple of years back, followed by an aurora on the way home.

My Brain Hurts Too...

2005-07-14T23:12:00.000+12:00

The last ten minutes my computer has been furiously churning away. Hopefully it's getting itself emotionally prepared for some Naive Bayesian analysis. This is, of course, where you find some nice young naive bayesian... wait, no! But either a few hundred pages of ascii text was a little much for a fairly elementary program written in common lisp, my computer sucks, a combination of the both, or there's a nice loop or bug in the program which is eating at its soul...

If I can get it working, it might finally provide some justification for the fact that I have over a dozen computers in my office, but no one other than me to use them. I can get them all running icky jobs all at once. Glee. On the other hand, I could always attempt to sell them on trade-me, and buy a printer that jams less often. If only trade-me weren't blocked ...

Functional Fixedness

2005-07-14T22:50:00.000+12:00

I arrived home in the dark yesterday and accidentally put the wrong key in the lock. I took it out, used the right key, and wandered inside. However, once I was inside, I realised that the 'wrong' key had happily gone in. So, uh, yeah, turns out that six months ago when I looked at the keys, I just assumed the two new shaped keys were for the sliding door, and the old looking keys were for the front door. But, actually, like, the sliding door was keyed to fit the front door. D'oh. On the other hand, now I don't need to get another spare key cut, but I have been carrying two of the same key round for the last six months...

Taking the Scenic Route...

2005-07-12T22:49:00.000+12:00

Taking the Scenic Route isn't just a metaphor that could be applied to my decision-making process or lifestyle (perhaps we'll take that, er, detour, another day). Those who have ever travelled with me will know that I need little excuse to take a lesser known route, or merely drive down a road "because it's there".

Last week, as I was driving out of town, it occurred to me that I should really write about some places to go. I hadn't been out of town for a while, so was feeling pretty nostalgic for the "just drive" mentality. I was also feeling rather grateful that I'd been put off Subarus by a mechanic acquaintance, both for fuel and ongoing maintenance costs.

I was driving up the coast, to Kakanui, a small east coast beach settlement, a place were I lived for about six months after finishing varsity. It's a great place, I love swimming there, walking along the beach, and staring at the sea. But it reminds me also in some ways that I'm an east coast boy. For me, the sun should rise over the sea, and set over the mountains. I remember being surprised that my Dad, who despite being born on The East Coast (deep in the heart of Ngati Porou territory), felt himself a west coast boy, perhaps having spent a little too much time in the Rangitiki and Wanganui during his formative years. I bring this up, because there are some things I love about west coast beaches. They tend to have steeper bush-clad hills, wilder surf, and more breath-taking vistas. Or something. East coast means browned off grass, old-man pine and macrocarpa on the ridges. Marram grass on sand dunes. And while it's what I know, it doesn't quite take my breath away so much. That said, the sunnier climate of the east coast probably makes the beaches 'better' on some level in the long run. And I've spent many happy summers at Kakanui, and further north, on a little beach on Banks Peninsular.

And there are exceptions to the rule. There are wild bush-clad hills rolling down to the sea on the east coast, just not so common. Bushy Beach (perhaps the name indicates its atypicality) just south of Oamaru springs to mind.

Perhaps it is also something to do with the hills. My early life in the Mackenzie and further north in Canterbury, along with Mum's strong connection to central makes something about plains and wide open spaces gel.

The distance from hills and valleys may underlie my thing with the sun. Mostly a feature of Wellington and Dunedin, because of their hilly terrain, it is possible to live places, cold damp places, which don't see the sun for tracts of the day, especially in winter. I'm very, very glad to have found my place in the sun in this town.

Portrait of the Scientist as a Young Man...

2005-07-06T21:21:00.000+12:00

Ha. I just acquire a digital camera (thanks to Jessie for the link), via the ubiquitous trademe...

And on a semi-related note... the beast takes four AAs.... but what the hell has happened to rechargeable batteries. Like cellphone batteries certainly are smaller and charge faster these days. But varta have gone a step further. I have 15 minute charge AA batteries. It'll be interesting to see how the go in the long run (and the charge is not so cheap, but 15 minutes aint long to wait... (available from a Dickies near you)

Do I have data from Finland????

2005-06-30T01:57:00.000+12:00

Obviously things are starting to slip by me now. The answer is yes. And it should be reasonably salient, for it was the first lot that I was actively involved with. D'oh. Although I guess it's rather a long time ago now. In fact, I'm trying to date the origin of the webpage. However, being so many directories deep of the domain, webarchives a bit thin on it. Grrrr. And damn frames don't archive well either. Mind you, they always were a tool of the devil.

Oh wait. It's like incoherent 2am ranting. Perhaps I should sleep now...

Deadlines

2005-06-30T00:03:00.000+12:00

Oh how I've missed deadlines. Or not. I knew things were getting relatively dire when I elected to have a small scotch last night. All the silly little liquid and food superstitions I used for my thesis -- no doubt contributors to my thesis gut. Now that I have a mint blender and frozen berries at home, I don't need to midnight mission to countdown for my smoothie fix.
And as I suggested elsewhere recently, my thesis routine was something like this until the dying days:
9am-1pm: multiple plunger coffees at home
1pm-5pm: cheap arse instant at school
5pm-8pm: G&T, wine or beer with dinner
8pm-11pm: a pot or two of tea
11pm-midnight: scotch or port
midnight-2am: hot chocolate
2am-9am: sleep

So yes. Not good to be back in this game. The awful feeling of knowing that the end is not far away, and that there's not much left to do, but struggling with the will to do it.
I'm not planning to pull an all-nighter to night, but I'm not sleeping til I have a full draft...
And for one of my most long-distracting side-projects. Don't even mention how bad the website needs updating....

No Picnic

2005-06-27T20:09:00.000+12:00

It might not be the most grusome surgery possible, but when I met with the oral surgeon the other day he had three things of interest to say. First, although I was only his second patient of the day, he awarded me the "teeth of the day" award (for which I'm quite chuffed). Secondly, he asked me to reproduce*. Thirdly, I was informed that the two wisdom teeth I have were "no picnic", and that general anaesthesia was really the only option. Apart from the inherent danger, I'm quite happy about this, being the wimp that I am. Not only are they in odd places, they are each snuggled up to two nerves, and have their roots growing out perpendicular in opposite sort of directions, making a(n) (in)convenient sort of T shape.

* My upper wisdom teeth are absent, so it's something he'd like to me to pass on. Incidentally, this led into one of a number of interesting discussions we had. This one was on whether selection processes are still operating in humans.

The Candyfloss Incident...

2005-06-26T23:09:00.000+12:00

Not too riveting, but L* borrowed a digital camera over the weekend, so there'll be a few extra images in the next little while. So here is the product of my previous labours. It looks like somebody's gone a bit crazy with candyfloss in the ceiling. Unfortunately glass fibre more scratches than melts in your mouth.

However, when the hills are looking like this, glass fibre is not such a bad thing.

(although if it wasn't for the smudge of snow, using the barbecue doesn't seem like such a silly idea -- this next shot is about 2 hours later!)

Sold Out...

2005-06-11T19:50:00.000+12:00

I've always been pretty down on laptops: expensive, non-upgradeable, and most of the time attached to so many wires and excessive crap as to make them about as portable as a desktop. Well, those of you who know me well, and my inimitable skills, may not be so surprised to hear that I "acquired" a laptop.

As an amusing aside, I acquired the laptop after it got damaged by lightening. I do have a surge protector, but I've never heard of anybody actually have trouble with power surges etc. Well, anyway, I acquired a laptop which had some lightening damage via the phone cable. Not surprisingly, the modem no longer works, and neither does the DVD/CR-RW drive...

It would never be my primary computer. I still find controlling it exceptionally annoying relative to my desktop. However, what I am finding great, is sitting here typing this in front of the fire, connected wirelessly to my desktop, and thence onto the information superhighway. There's probably also a good likelihood that I'll be posting from on the deck on sunny days in future.

If I only said I'd never buy a laptop, then I probably haven't sold out. However, if I claimed I'd never want a laptop, then I guess, er, maybe...

Journalistic Cliches

2005-06-02T14:31:00.000+12:00

I suspect most of my readers are "progressive", and thus regulars at Hardnews, but I'm not sure how many of you read Island Life. David has a stunning link to "journalistic cliches" today...

Feisty: Short, old female
Never: Not in Google
War-torn: We can't find it on a map

Etc. Check them out for yourself...

More Computer Geekery

2005-06-02T14:24:00.000+12:00

Following the popularity of the previous post, I thought I'd post a couple of the longer lists of this that I modified for mine. Some of them are not funny, but there are plenty more gems

The more high-tech the equipment, the more buttons and flashing lights it has. However, everyone must have been highly trained, because the buttons and lights are not labeled. Note: The most advanced systems have multiple displays, some showing three-dimensional wire-frame graphics slowly turning in space.

Computers sent into an endless loop, or otherwise confused by an operator, will eventually explode.

Malfunctions are indicated by a bright flash of light, a puff of smoke, a shower of sparks and an explosion that causes you to jump backwards.

Those last couple may be truer than you'd expect. I believe at least one of my readers has witnessed smoke coming from an SGI.

http://www.iol.ie/~thedeans/cinmovie.html
http://www.esmerel.com/circle/movies.html

Where can I get one?

2005-05-30T20:46:00.000+12:00

OK, so some old internet jokes just never grow old. Kind of related to my prior CSI-bitching, those shows are so guilty of a lot of this stuff.

You never have to use the space-bar when typing long sentences.

Movie characters never make typing mistakes, even though what they type often doesn't show up on the monitor.

Advanced computers have easy-to-understand graphical interfaces.

Error messages make sense.

Computers beep randomly between keystrokes, when Enter is pressed, or when the screen changes.

Some computers slow down the output on the screen, so it doesn't go faster than can be read.

Really advanced computers produce the sound of a dot-matrix printer as characters scroll horizontally across the display.

And then the CSI-specific ones.

No matter how esoteric their requirements are, somebody has always designed a program to complete the task.

Further, unlike in science where the utility is a small buggy program[1] built in some obscure language, on CSI, they're bug-free, fast, and have imaculate user interfaces.

You can zoom in or out of a graphic image with no loss or change of resolution and detail (or in the case of CSI, the computer has an "enhance" function).

[1] I have nothing but the utmost respect for all the helpful people who have written such programs that have helped me with my work. However, very frequently it takes a good long time to re-format my data, and get the hang of the obscure switches for little things which invariably run in DOS, if at all.

Rant

2005-05-28T14:10:00.000+12:00

I feel like I've been watching a bit much suboptimal tv lately. And especially with repeat watchings of shows that don't work so cohesively, but have at least one great feature.

And yes, that means I watch House almost exclusively to see Hugh Laurie being sarcastic. It still doesn't seem old. It's a funny juxtaposition, however, hearing him on some nappy ad, being effusive and anything but sarcastic. Speaking of voiceovers, Stephen Fry (The Voice of The Book) is also currently on some inane ad doing a voiceover, but does make great fun for parodying it, HHGTG styles.

The thing which irritates me about House, the CSI menagerie, and a few others, is the apparently lack of specialisation, and their conductance of tasks outside of their brief (like forensic experts conducting interviews). Last night on House, there was a neurologist, and two other specialists (but no radiologist, or even a radiation tech) personally conducting a CAT scan, just to check for metal implants before an MRI (so it's not even like they were watching a diagnostic test). The marvellous, recently departed Green Wing had an excellent and novel solution to such issues. It dispensed entirely with the need to incorporate patients, or really any medical subplots, into a hospital drama. No doubt aided by a couple of cast members of Black Books, and presumably the same muso behind the theme & incidental music.

The one crime show that doesn't bore me is Criminal Intent, perhaps partly because while the lead characters are not persona-less, they're for the most part subservient to the plot, not litte sub-plots in and of themselves. It's also possible that the psychological aspect appeals to me...

Cooperative Gardening

2005-05-26T15:23:00.000+12:00

I've been pretty sick of late, and to boost my Vitamin C intake, I've started eating the grapefruit off the tree in the bottom of the garden. Later, I realised that seeing as I was making Lemon & Honey drinks with lemon from a squirty bottle, that it might pay to inspect my lemon tree. So, in due course, I'm now having Lemon & Honey with home-grown lemons.
Recently, a person of my acquaintance was commenting on their unwillingness to buy feijoas, on the basis that, at home, they had an unlimited free supply from a neighbour's tree. This rings true with me. I've never yet stumped up money for rhubarb. $2 for a piddly little bunch doesn't seem worth the hassle.
So today I was down the bottom of the garden, and I've known for a little while that I have two feijoa trees (after I learnt to distinguish them from pohutukawa). So, as I was looking at them, I noticed that it was actually bearing fruit. Not dead ripe, but pretty close. At this point, I decided it was probably about time I gave all my random fruiting plants a good inspection. The one I suspect is a mandarin is bare (although it does appear to have some possibles for next autumn), the grape-vine is bare. The olives, having done pretty well last year, have shed all their immature fruit. But the other bloody feijoa, the bigger one, is also bearing fruit. This somewhat surprised me, as I'd always figured the reason for having two was that one was male and one was female. However, it seems there's some cooperative gardening going down. As I can see a big feijoa two properties over, the male is elsewhere*.

* However, there is some small chance that both my trees are self fertile.

A Year, eh?

2005-05-18T15:44:00.000+12:00

I'd kind of figured that it must be coming up soon, but it turns out that it's a year and two days since I last graduated, today. This might not seem to significant, except that graduations are on Saturday, so Grad+2=Monday, and strange things sometimes happen on the Monday's after graduation. In 2000, I lost the shoulder length hair I'd been sporting since '92 or '93. Last year, on that fateful Monday, I started a job, this job, an actual job. Or at least, as much of an actual job as I've ever had. Some of you may claim that this job doesn't count, or might make humourous comments and aspersions between the perceived relationship between 'me' and 'job' and 'work' and 'working', but I choose to ignore you. A year, eh?

Garden(s) Implementation

2005-05-09T15:47:00.000+12:00

OK, so maybe I'm being a bit old fashioned, but whatever happened to leaf-rakes? Everywhere these days they seem to be swinging little petrol powered blowers. I can kind of see how they're probably quicker on dry hard surfaces like concrete, but I just witnessed someone using on on grass. And I swear it would have been quicker and more environmentally friendly to use a plain old leaf-rake.

Which brings me to the first Garden Implement Olympiad some many summers ago now. Among the glorious events, such as the Lawn-Mowing Marathon and Baby Poo Pool[1], was Leaf-Rake Javelin. Initially it was all about distance, but after a while an accuracy component was added, whereby you were supposed to try to hit a duck. Much hysteria ensued the day someone almost did. I'm not sure who was more surprised: us, or the duck. If you're concerned about the welfare of said Leaf-Rakes, I'm sure that raking gravel paths (surely not their intended purpose) was worse. Either way, I think the were purchased in gross (that's a dozen dozen) cartons, at under a dollar a piece.

[1] Actually, it was more like, Retrieve the Baby Poo/Dead Hedgehog etc. from the Paddling Pool, but that was never my job. Although on very hot days, I almost wished that it was.

It Didn't Rain on My Parade...

2005-05-07T15:53:00.000+12:00

I don't know how many graduation parades I've been to, but it must be well over 20 I think. They still choke me up. And I'm sure it's not just the bagpipes that pull the heartstrings.

Pity about the raining (or light drizzle) on the parade, but Matt, along with Rhi (an old officemate, and the person who patiently checked all my pages were in order one fateful Monday afternoon) both looked happy, and as good as you can under the maroon circumstance.

And now Straitjacket Fits tonight. *sigh*
By various accounts, it should be one of the top aural events of the year.

Maroon Five/Two/Too

2005-05-07T12:04:00.000+12:00

Matt's back in town for the ritual humiliation, brought to the world by the colour maroon and the hat John Knox. So we went out for a spendiferous dinner last at the French cafe. Well, mostly splendiferous. The venison was svensational[1]. A marked improvement on their old venison dish, which involved some french word which basically meant paper thin slices of venison, which weren't too satisfying. However, the coffee was the single worst I think I've had in Dunedin, and wouldn't have been too out of place in a small town tearooms advertising "cappacino". Even after about 30minutes, it was still bordering on too hot. I did eventually try some, and it had all the kind of delicious rotten wood flavours that were mercifully absent in the Coleraine [2].

All in all a great night. Unfortunately, there was a rather gloomy incident on the way home. I was waiting for a taxi at a certain taxi stand outside a certain bar that used to be a different bar that was a lot better than the bar that it currently is. It also happens to be the taxi stand where there was a fight a few weeks ago, allegedly over a taxi. One of those involved died a few days later, from head injuries sustained in the fight.

So you'd think people might be a little bit more circumspect, especially on that stretch of footpath. So I was rather depressed to see a guy who was visibly identifiable as being of a different ethnicity being approached, abused, and shoved about said ethnicity. Perhaps something about "What are you doing in my country". Really touching stuff tough guy.

Luckily the other guy was under no misapprehensions about what to do in the situation, and found the bowed head/walk away response eventually worked.

Apart from that it was a good night.

[1] Svensational. n. Having the property of being reminiscent of Sven (or the blonde pigtailed female equivalent), and that time in the Sauna with the vodka and birch branches...
[2] I might be slightly off on the vintage. I didn't see the bottles before they were decanted, but the age of 11 was being bandied around...

A Touch of Pink Frost...

2005-05-04T13:21:00.000+12:00

Another sunny day, another frost in the valley.

And not so much Pink Frost, as Pink Warmth ...

Over the weekend, I started insulating the ceiling. I'd been getting frustrated that after a crisp sunny day, and arriving home to warm house, the heat would dissipate over the evening. Similarly, on wet or cloudy days, it seemed that the fire had to be set to at least "mild inferno" to maintain a reasonable sort of living temperature, and "high inferno" to get it up to temperature in the first place. Plus, being a greenie sort of scotsman type person, there's a part of me that dislikes spending too much money on electricity, or burning too much wood.

So anyway, installing Pink Batts is one of the single most unpleasant things I've ever done. Roof cavities generally suck, because they're cramped, dusty, and either too hot or too cold. In this case, too hot, especially when you're wearing a dust mask, long sleeves, and long pants, to keep the miserable little bits of fiberglass out of your person. I have bruised on my knees, hips, hip-joint, and on my bottom rib from sliding round enclosed spaces on hard pieces of wood, and aching muscles from being contorted into odd positions. It's probably also not an advisable past time if you're claustrophobic. At one point, I'd squeezed into a particularly tight space, and basically couldn't move most of my body in any direction, when I came face to face with a Rat. Fortunately, it was dead and dessicated, but still a little traumatizing. The other annoying thing, as you crawl in and out of funny spaces is the number of times that you hit your head/elbow/knee on something. Or, also pretty fun, when you have lots of bits of broken fibreglass inside your clothes, and you're then sliding round, rubbing it into your skin. Kind of like (surf)board rash, but glass is sharper than sand, and tends to get into your skin.

However, apart from being fabulously unpleasant, the living area seems to hold its heat a lot better. Now I just have to get psyched up to do the rest of the house.

A Touch of Frost...

2005-05-03T20:56:00.000+12:00

Another merit of living up a hill that I somehow missed, is the ability of cold air to congregate at the bottom of the hill. This is beautifully illustrated by the fact that I've seen two frosts so far this year, but didn't get to experience my first until I was walking through the botanic gardens on my way to work. And from the deck, I can see the frost line running across the hill on the other side. Unfortunately, there was also the reverse merit two Sundays ago, when the hail that had fallen over night was still lying on the ground up the hill but not down...

It's also a little illustrative, in that the bottom of the valley is a bit like a scale model of Christchurch, except with less gang members and more culture. Oh no wait, in that the cold air moves to the bottom of the valley (or in the case of The Garden Cityit slides down the planes and off the Port Hills, people light there fires, and then some warm air puts a lid on it, and the community is left to stew in its own smog.

This weird property of cold air, also explains why viticulturalists like to grow their grapes on at least a slight incline, as the cold air will just slide away, hopefully avoiding frosts...

Geek News

2005-04-28T13:25:00.000+12:00

I've been stressed, busy, sick, and busy lately, hence the lack of posting... but just wanted to share some things that seem exciting...

I almost bought a digital camera a couple of weeks ago, but eventually dithered off because, being something of a amateur photo geek, I want something which takes really good images, but is also really small. I was tossing up between the Olympus C-5000 (5MP, and exceedingly good picture quality), versus the Sony P150 (7.2MP but, perversely, not as good picture quality, but bitchingly small). So I was excited to find on slashdot today that Nokia have phones with 4GB hard drive and a 2MP camera. Like an ipod and a stupid widget phone and a digital camera, all in one uber-expensive (I assume) gadget. But that just sounds really rad.

It's also quite cool that the new Airbus got airborne. Although, in reality, it's really quite ugly, and I think I prefer the boeing model to smaller planes between more destinations, than even bigger planes for main routes....

I was also planning to go to the Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy movie at the midnight opening last night. After initially hearing it was terrible, it seems maybe it's not that bad. But then I discovered that there is no midnight opening in Dunedin. What's with that?, as Miss Bunce is so fond of saying.

Wisdom....

2005-04-12T11:03:00.000+12:00

A couple of years ago, while I was getting my teeth checked out at the School of Dentistry (a cheap but exceedingly laborious experience), I had a panoramic X-ray taken, where, for the first time, I got to see my wisdom teeth, or lack thereof. My upper wisdom's (romantically labelled 18 and 28 by dentists) were miraculously missing in action. Either never there, or reabsorbed by my body at some previous time. Unfortunately, downstairs was a different story. In *exactly* the wrong places. They are both following a broadly horizontal trajectory. The left-hand one is heading directly for the front of my mouth, bulldozing through the roots of my molars as it goes. Conveniently, its own root is gently butting up against the nerver that controls the left side of my face. The right hand side is a little more loopy. It's oriented so that it's heading sort of directly out the side of my face, so if it were to emerge, it would pop out of cheek/jaw, just in front of my ear.

My optimistic student dentist thought that if they didn't move anywhere it would probably be OK, but the evil tutor thought I should probably pop them anyway. Optimistic student said if they ever started to hurt, that that was a sign they'd need to be popped. Well, they've started hurting, so I now have an appointment with an oral surgeon in June. I hope like hell I can get a general anaesthetic. I'm far too squeamish for this sort of shit.

Failing that, I might try to get a referral from Noizy's friend, although, I think I might want more than a couple of shots beforehand:

I had my bottom two yanked shortly after arriving here in Wellington.

Having put up with a dull throb for about six months, I figured I might as well get it over and done with, so toddled off to the dentist for what must have been the first time in about six years. After the x-rays had been done, it was revealed to me that these wisdom teeth were 'big', and these wisdom teeth were 'deep'. It didn't sound good. I returned a week later, two shots of vodka under my belt to steady my nerves. God I hate dentists.

So they popped a couple of valium into me, which mingled nicely with the vodka, and, after a short chilling-out period on a bed in a waiting area, the pretty nurse guided me to ... the chair. There seemed to be a lot of industrial-strength hydraulic equipment at hand. And the rubber gloves and smocks donned by dentist and assistant didn't augur well (I got a bib the size of a table-cloth, which was also less than reassuring).

And then, well, out they came. In lots of little bits. My overwhelming memory was of the dentist saying, 'mmm, we'll have to cut this bit of bone out as well,' and of this colossal CRUNCH and bowel-shuddering vibration as they shattered the bit of my jawbone into which the larger of my two wisdom teeth had impacted. 'UCK!' I managed to gurgle through the blood.

A good mate was looking after me for the rest of the day, and he took me back to his place where we had a couple more vodkas, and then (I don't know how I managed this), scoffed down a few 'special' cookies (purely for the pain-killing aspect), whipped out the guitars, and launched into a three hour jam. Apparently (my memory grows hazy after the first 20 minutes or so) we were inspired, and actually wrote some songs that ended up being recorded on our next album (although I had to relearn them all the next time we played together, naturally -- "Jesus, I played that? I'm better than I thought!").

Pity about the bloodstains around his flat though. It looked like we'd sacrificed a cat. [Gratuitously stolen from here]

A Litre A Day...

2005-04-11T16:41:00.000+12:00

With the introduction of recycling, the DCC mandated that rubbish would only be collected in their official 40 or 65L bags. I put the rubbish out last night, Monday being our rubbish day. It was only our fourth bag since we moved in, which seems like a good effort. No doubt aided by composting, mulching, and recycling. However, I sat down and did that math, and although a bag a month seems like good going, it works out at almost exactly 1L each per day (129days X 2 people = 260L). I wonder how much of that is meat trays? Probably the single biggest bulkiest thing that's non-recyclable that we go through a few of....
That and other miscellaneous packaging. All in all, I think a good effort, but some improvement would be good. I also think maybe we should buy 40L bags!

Ooops

2005-04-08T12:24:00.000+12:00

OK, so it's slightly Naughty, but I wanted the width man. I've just made a few final hacks to extend this so that it's now over 800 wide. That means anybody with a small monitor (or maybe a laptop) is going to have trouble fitting it on screen. Any complaints?

Confessions of a Serial Browser

2005-04-07T22:48:00.000+12:00

So, a meme eh? Unlike some haters, I wasn’t even too clear what one of these was with reference to the interweb. I have a feeling I might not live up to my billing (“for some intelligent choices, no doubt”), either. The fact that I had to google Fahrenheit 451 (which I’m now interested in reading), doesn’t put me at a good start.

You're stuck inside Fahrenheit 451. Which book do you want to be?

DSM IV. Oh wait, I don't care if that one gets burnt.

Have you ever had a crush on a fictional character?

Er yes. So many that I've lost count. Haha. Mostly from way back in kids and YA fiction. It's taken me a bit of thinking, but I realise that Margaret Mahy's mysterious intelligent young women from The Changeover and The Catalogue of the Universe were both very alluring.

The last book you bought is?

If I don’t count the second-hand marketing textbook I picked up for L* (it took weeks to get the commerce stench off my hands), I’m pretty sure it’d be Christmas books for family (Penguin History of New Zealand: Parents; Short History of Nearly Everything: Brother). The last book that I bought for myself was probably a Mediterranean cookbook (c. April 2004).

The last book you finished is?

Michael King’s Penguin History of New Zealand. At Christmas. That’s right, I don’t think I’ve read a book since Christmas (and I don’t mean not just finished reading a book, but done any reading of any part of a book that wasn’t either work-related or an encyclopaedia/dictionary). NB: I haven’t read any books for work either, in case you were wondering. I think I read three books last year, and that classifies as a good year.

What are you currently reading?

I just got given Jane Ussher Portraits, but I guess you don’t, er, ‘read’ photographs. So that means I'm not currently reading a book. I've also had a good look around, and I can't find any "to read" books around the house that I'm interested in...

Update: I found a copy of Erica Jong's Fear of Flying in a secondhand store in Lyttelton a year or two back, and there is a bookmark in it. I though reading some old-skool feminist fiction would be interesting. But ah, No. What would have been outrageous and controversial back then seems, well, dated. I think the idea of the Zipless Fuck is still alive, but like communism, better in theory than practice...

Five Books you would take to a deserted Island?

*Mr Nice: Howard Marks. I don't care if it's true, it's so fecking funny
*The Matriarch: Witi Ihimaera. I loved it at the time. A big book would be good. And I really should re-read it.
*Catch 22: Joseph Heller. Stealing this from Noizy's selection, but I love it to bits.
*Midnight's Children: Salman Rushdie. Actually, I think I am reading this. Or was reading it? Or had to give it back to whoever I borrowed it off? A friend did her MA on magic realism in Rushdie's novels, with an emphasis on this one. And raves about it. I trust her judgement.
*Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Douglas Adams (NB: I want the version with the entire 5 volume trilogy).

And No. There is no such thing as too much perverse humour.

Who are you going to pass this stick to (3 persons) and why?

*My man of letters: He comprehends more languages than anyone else I know, even if he has a slight fetish for dead languages, and a strong predilection for the letters A, T, G, and C.
*Jo Hubris: 'Cause a writer of her ilk must be reading something good.
*Myshkin

The Big Chop

2005-04-05T12:10:00.000+12:00

It probably wouldn't come as a big surprise to know that I'm not much of a fan of reality TV, but last Monday night, I got seduced. High School Reunion featured a group of people dumped back in a resort in Hawaii ten years after the end of high school. It really did play out like all the stereotype characters of high school, and were conveniently labelled as such in the show (the Wallflower, the Jock, the Drama Queen, the Geek etc.), and in some ways, apart from the plastic surgery, not too dissimilar from a bunch of people in my year. I wasn't too surprised on reading up on it today that they all had to audition, and as per reality tv usual, only the extreme personalities got picked.

The thing that had me hooked was a guy called Lenny, the Geek, and last week he had his long hair all cut off... which obviously strikes a bit of a cord with me, although it's five years since The Big Chop next month. And although there were some superficial similarities, I realised that I really wasn't Lenny. Lenny's main motivation for the big makeover was the implied prospect of some action with blond girls enticing him to get the makeover.

Which got me to thinking that I was really no candidate for this show at all. Basically, all of the pent up resentment on show was stuff I'd worked through in sixth and seventh form. I don't think we'd make a good show, cause we wouldn't be fighting. Actually, it might be mildly entertaining. I'd like to think we're a fun lot. More entertaining might be a reunion of the people in my hall from first year. Now that could be disturbing. I don't think I'd play a big part, but hot damn I'd find it entertaining to be along for the ride.

A Spa....???!

2005-03-20T15:37:00.000+12:00

Yesterday I had my first cause to visit the fuse box. All in all a rather interesting experience. To the best of what I can understand, there are at least 3 fuses which don't appear to actually 'fuse' anything. The labels are also a little comical. "Heating" controls the lounge to several unlabelled fuses.

Perhaps the most mysterious of all was the fuse labelled "spa". It's vaguely possible that this is some sort of cryptic electrician shorthand for "spare". However, none of the other apparently spare fuses are labelled "spare", so I don't see why this one should get special treatment. Further, there was easily enough space to write the "r" and the "e", so why just leave it at "spa" if you meant spare. On the other hand, maybe I've been done out of a spa? And if so, where was it?

On a previous voyage to the ceiling space, I managed to find a power socket up there, which briefly had me wondering whether they'd once been hydroponic activities up there. Unfortunately, given that it was adjacent to the new bathroom extractor unit and other miscellaneous bits, it's more likely to have been put there by the electrician, so that he can have a light/plug in his drill up there....

The plot thickens...

A Scenic Detour...

2005-03-19T12:31:00.000+13:00

After the a pretty nasty patch, the weather has niced up again, and we've been enjoying some more warm sunny days. And I do mention this a bit in defence of Dunedin.

Anyway, one of the actual reasons why I'm back on the weather/Dunedin, is that even though I've lived here for 9 years now, I still occasionally have new and magic and novel experiences, so I feel that there are things that I have yet to experience yet. On Tuesday, I'd been up in Roslyn at Rhubarb sampling some Huia product (and come on, it's not exactly like you need to follow the link to know what kind of "product" I'm referring to). Having finished up there about 8, I decided to walk home seeing as it was such a nice evening, and set off down Highgate. My original plan was to stick with Highgate the whole way, bash down the Bullock Track into the Woodhaugh Gardens, and then up into Opoho the usual ways. Well, not far along from Roslyn, I went down a side street, thinking it would merely take me down to Queen's Drive, and I'd wander down to George St that way. I did get to Queen's Drive eventually, but on the way I stumbled into what can only be described a small rent in the space-time continuum. Or so it seemed. It was like a whole mini-suburb, with contours that seemed like it should exist. Somehow fitting in to what seems when you look up from town like a fairly flat and featureless hill, was a very leafy gentrified area. I guess the crazy thing is that I used to know a girl who lived on one of the streets I was walking along, but that must have been near the bottom, and I'd never ventured further up. And even in all my driving and odd tiki-tours, I'd never come across this area before. Very cool.

Spurlock without the 'Tache

2005-03-14T11:00:00.000+13:00

I can't guarantee it'll be quality television, but while watching a sport we shan't talk about that was being screened free-to-air on Prime for the last four days, I saw an ad for something interesting. Tomorrow, at 8:30pm, is Louis and the Nazis, with Louis Theroux. He's the son of some famous guy, Paul Theroux.

I've seen Louis before in his "weird weekends" series. Basically, he's a nice sort of nondescript guy, who spends a weekend hanging out with odd groups. Sort of participant-observer, but not too heavy on the participant. Like a less participating Morgan Spurlock, and mercifully, without the dodgy 'tache. So Louis's spent a weekend hanging out with swingers, or in the porn industy. Well, tomorrow night, Louis goes and spends some time with some neo-nazis etc. in America. It promises to be somewhat amusing, and will no doubt confirm my liberal prejudices against white extremicists. There's also an added level of squirm-humour that Louis is jewish.

Brutal

2005-03-10T17:59:00.000+13:00

I've spent a fair bit of time attempting to explain the oddities of Dunedin weather to my international student flatmates over the years. Plus, it's occasionally pretty funny to watch the new fresher's discovering why Four Seasons in One Day was a) a New Zealand song and b) the video was filmed in Oamaru.

The weather was bobbing around the low 20s at lunchtime, with quite a warm wind. If you were to ask me, I'd probably label it a nor'wester, and if pressed, suggest that there might be a southerly on the way. It's also more than likely that I would have skulked here or here pretty recently. Fifth form geography also instilled this sort of cyclic nature. So anyway, check out these graphs. At 1:30, it's 21 degrees, sunny, and a bit windy. I saw the front coming (I was home for lunch, but had a ride back to work organised), and it looked pretty impressive. As you can see, in a matter of minutes, the wind had a sudden change of direction, the sky had clouded over, the temperature had dropped, and it was pissing down. Brutal, well brutal was that by 4pm the temperature had hit 5.3 degrees, plus there had been 17.5mm of rain. Five degrees. Mandy she's a bit chilly out there.

EDIT: Cool weather graphics courtesy of the Department of Physics' Energy Studies program.

World famous in...

2005-02-28T16:19:00.000+13:00

From the Malaysian Star...

"Stag party planned for Prince Charles in New Zealand

WELLINGTON, New Zealand (AP) - A bar in the southern New Zealand city of Dunedin is organising a bachelor party for Britain's Prince Charles, who is due to visit the city later this week.

Although the heir to the British throne is unlikely to attend, the businessman organizing the bash Saturday said he wanted to acknowledge the prince's visit to Dunedin so close to his April 8 wedding to Camilla Parker Bowles.

"It's only right and proper that Dunedin puts on this do for him,'' Dave McKewen told the Otago Daily Times. "We know a lot of his mates can't make it over, so we're also rounding up a few students and some rugby fans to pad out the crowd.''

McKewen said he hopes Dunedin Mayor Peter Chin will pass along a formal invitation to the "Great Southern Stag Night'' when the prince arrives on Saturday.

Dunedin is widely known in New Zealand for its rowdy student parties, which often spill into the streets and can include the burning of furniture."

Tree Freak

2005-02-26T18:47:00.000+13:00

So I was out with the chainsaw, and L* was mulching up the stuff as I was dropping it, and one of the neighbours came over to introduce himself. He's probably seen me having a discreet perv at his '66 Mustang convertible, plus I think he's seen me wondering back with an ice-cream while wearing a lava-lava, and then he sees me with a chainsaw, so he's probably a bit confused about my gender identity.

I remove my hearing protection (male -1) and put down the electric (-1) chainsaw (owned by my mother; -1), very sweaty (+1) but smelling of sunscreen (-1) as well as sawdust (+1). After doing the introductions and firm (+1) handshake, and me complimenting him on the fact that he actually drives his car, rather than polishing it and not driving it (c.f., Ferris Bueller's Day Off), he starts to tell me about the prior owner of my house. He regales me with how much this guy was a tree freak, waving his arms at what I'd consider to be a pretty normal looking area of shrubs. He's a bit interested in the mulcher, although perhaps mostly because he can't understand why I don't hire a skip and just bowl all the trees while I'm at it. I didn't have the heart to tell him that I'm probably a closet tree freak myself. My current tree vandalism is mostly so that I can replace some ones I don't like, with some ones that I do....

Scenes from the Front Line

2005-02-22T13:46:00.000+13:00

The time had come for a full blown assault, on the OUSA office no less, attempting to capture Violent Femmes tickets from deep in enemy territory. Having left the relative safety of my office, protected by the maze-like layout of my department, I ventured tentatively round toward the union lawn. I'd adopted an icognito look, hiding behind my evil eyes, but couldn't help breaking into a full grin feeling so out of place. Having extracted my tickets successfully, I managed to fight my way across the union lawn towards the science library.

In the wonderful era of electronic journals, it's not actually often that I have to visit the library, and much less science, as it doesn't carry much that I want. It was like a tomb in there, much in contrast to the burgeoning scene outside. Science still feels like an old school library as well. A very serious atmosphere, brown carpet squares, linoleum on concrete stairwells, dark, dingy, and smells like a stack room. A start contrast to the ultramodern brightly lit vibrant ISB. Paper retrieved, I headed back out into the sun, dodging a few more young uns before getting back safe.

Fresher Watching

2005-02-21T15:33:00.000+13:00

Town has been changing bit by bit, as it does every February, but it's always amazing the the tumultuous sudden change when school starts up in earnest. Watching some 2nd/3rd years having their own little Jackarsesque Squeeze The Cactus at Countdown late last thursday had the tough little boys squealing. I felt rather more sorry for the cacti than the morons who ended up spending a lot of time removing prickles from their hands.

This afternoon's little distraction was to sit down with my icecream posse mid-afternoon for some Fresher Watching. From our session, we have been able to determine what is SHRN and what is NOT

NOT:
*Muffin is out
*Lanyards (stupid neckstraps for keys and smellphones)
*Hawaiian shirts
*Terry toweling hats (even post their recent cricket revival.)

So HOT right now:
*Ultra short denim skirts. Preferably with no bottom hem.
*Over long tops, tight down over the trousers, replacing the previously ubiquitous muffin.
*Frilly skirts
*Double layered skirts
*Asymmetric skirts
*Muscle Ts with non-complentary bra straps

There was also much debate about how male fashion doesn't change so much from year to year. Trousers and shorts are still baggy and long, worn low-riding etc.

Ungardening

2005-02-13T12:24:00.000+13:00

Haha. If there is one thing you should worry about, it's me with a chainsaw! So as part of my uber-cool urban trendy life, I've spent a lot of time gardening lately, or should that be ungardening.

Mostly I really like my garden. Whoever planted it did, however, have a bit of a fetish for conifers, which I'm not so big on myself. And I'm especially not big on them when they are planted absurdly close to the path down to the house and pruned back into ano ugly sort of hedgish shape. And when they're prickly conifers. I started ungardening them in the first couple of weeks after moving in before bringing the pinball machine down. I was quite shocked to discover the size of the trunks within. People had been attempting to tame the wild tree within for a looooonnnnng time. Suffice it to say, I now have a good pile of firewood.

You can see two of the main offenders in this picture, helpfully marked "X"

And having cut them down, I discover that hiding behind them are some rather more attractive plants AND I don't have the feeling of being claustrobic walking down the path. Also note the plant at the very end of the path. It's a pittosporum (which may in fact be said pi-TOSS-porum, rather than PIT-o-sporum, but then I'd have to find a resident Latin/Botany geek... oh wait....), and I'm rather a fan. However, this model, a native, is good for 9m, and about 3m high. Conveniently, it's planted about 10cm from the edge of the path. I haven't had the heart to ungarden it yet, but it's one that I'd replace, unlike Mr Prickly Conifer.

We had some more heavy rain as well, and I find my grapefruit tree keeled over yesterday. My Two Dollar Shope ratchet ties are currently holding it in a more, er, erect fashion until I get some stakes later today.

Also, I think sometime in the near future I'm going to expand this tunnel (which is looking down toward same corner in earlier photo.

Wet Wet Wet

2005-02-09T14:25:00.000+13:00

I've delayed writing about this, as I was quite keen to nab some photographs from somewhere...
The ODT website is a bit of a dog to navigate. It's a moot point as to whether it's better or worse than their previous attempt. Anyway, the herald reckons it was about 34mm of rain in 20min. Whatever, it was wet. Like really freaking wet.
Home escaped pretty much unscathed, but the downpipes at work didn't cope, and I'd, er, left the windows open because it had been so hot. Not much harm done though, although my 'waterproof' fountain pen ink seems to have run a bit...
Anyway, I've borrowed these for those who can't be bothered heading elsewhere.

Bacchus, where the Octagon meets Stuart St (or is that river?).

The Ra Bar had similar issues

And out by the 'brook there was a bit of a lake...

Olfactory Overload

2005-01-31T10:10:00.000+13:00

Dunedin is a city of smells. The warm chocolate scented air wafting over the countdown carpark late on a frosty winter's night, the salt smell of a biting easterly whipping off the harbour, or the rotting rubbish, beer, and charcoal smell of Castle Street...
Cadbury's is cleary a favoured smell, and can provide a lift to an otherwise dreary day, or elicit a sense of excitement and vibrancy on a sunny day.
Then there is the smell that I hate most. Ironically it's a coffee smell, but it's the worst coffee smell in the world. Not the smell of freshly roasted and ground arabic beans, or perfectly extracted espresso. No. I work within a couple of blocks of Cerebos Greggs instant coffee plant. A horribly strong vile-smelling essence of awful coffee. Far, far worse than anything I associate with instant coffee. I'd secretly like to think that the smell is the result of the decaffeination process, where they're stealing all the xanthene goodness from the robusta beans, ready to give mountain dew or no-doze or V it's edge. Whatever causes it, I hate it. I hate it especially much today, as it's hot, and I'd love to go and press the buttons to make all my electrically operated windows open, but I don't want that smell to permeate my consciousness.

Presents

2005-01-30T13:40:00.000+13:00

It seems buying presents these days is getting harder. For the second year in a row, someone attempted to buy me Harry Orsman's excellent Oxford Dictionary of New Zealand English: A Dictionary of New Zealandisms on Historical Principles. I would have thought it would have been straight forward enough. I already have a lot of dictionaries, and I've moaned about how this one is expensive, but would be cool to have, and how big it is, and how it is a fairly obsessive record of neologisms peculiar to New Zealand. Admittedly, looking around a bookstore, and the two attempts to buy me this so far, I can kind of see why they get confused. Last birthday I got the Reed Dictionary of New Zealand English, which was also originally edited by Orsman. It's a great dictionary actually. It's a general dictionary of English, with a useful number of New Zealandisms. Unfortunately, noboby has bought me the New Zealand Oxford Dictionary either, which is a bigger, more comprehensive general dictionary with an NZ bent.

Then, I was engaged about a week before my birthday on a discussion about Ernesto 'Che' Guevara. As it transpires, having seen how keen I was to go to see the film version of The Motorcycle Diaries, it had been surmised that I might be the greatful recipient of a Che t-shirt. Now unfortunately for the person concerned, I explained how I saw the hilarious stage version of the Motorcycle Diaries (the humour in the moview was much more restrained) on a Friday night a few years ago. Now after a few post-show wines, I detoured into the central libary to to use the facilities, and suddenly became inspired to read a book on Guevara. There was a short-ish book that was on loan, so I settled on the latest 800 page academic biography, replete with 200 pages of endnotes. Apart from a little two much detail, it was an excellent read (the Motorcycle diaries era was about 20 pages!!). A little like the movie you get an interesting sense of how a middle-class brat transforms into a communist revolutionary. Being an exhaustive historical critique (including the first to benefit from interviews with both Castro and Che's wife), I got to see the bad with the good, and to see a fairly tragically flawed figure. Anyway, so I have some deal of admiration for some of his acheivements and principles, but in a somewhat balanced fashion. So to cut a fairly long story short, it's not that I'm averse to Che or wearing his likeness on a t-shirt, I just feel that it would misconstrue what I actually think on the topic. And I don't think my views entirely line up with the views (or lack thereof) of the usual Che t-shirt wearing crowd. Funnily enough, Che the middle-class revolutionary is a popular icon for the wannabe middle-class revolutionaries. Somewhat relatedly, there was quite an interesting article in The Listener, suggesting that the Free Tibet movement was a misguided middle-class action.

CODA: So the t-shirt will be going back if the receipt can be found, otherwise I'll wear it, but not too prominently. And one last present thing, not that I don't love my espresso machine, but I would have bought a grinder first... I'm such a bastard to buy for.

Summer Sifting II

2005-01-27T11:55:00.000+13:00

As I've mentioned before, fine weather brings out odd behaviour in my department. I was exceedingly bitter in the middle of a maddening rush yesterday to find at least ten people lounging in the sun on the exterior stairwell. Today, there is a twister mat in the shade of one of the bridges.

I went to a Pegasus Bay tasting last night, and the winemaker was wearing an Emily the Strange t-shirt. He blamed his attire on airnz...
Both Rieslings were stunning. The aria is a late-picked non-dessert wine, sort of Auslese in style, and just mmmmm. The Pinot and the Merlot/CabSauv/CabFranc/Malbec were both very good as well. Mmmmmmm. Pity I'm feeling poor

Wrong

2005-01-25T11:05:00.000+13:00

Another day of walking to work in expectant heat. Warm, but not yet hot, as the dew burning off soaks up the suns rays. It occurred to me that given my strong predilection for punctuality, that I may as well detour through a different part of the gardens. I think I usually take the most direct route, but there an enormous number of other permutations, which are hardly less direct. And when you're hardly on time anyway, what's another five minutes here or there. I think I actually managed to walk a path I'd never been down before*.

I found my office backing from the morning sun, and am still having trouble settling into work. Or at least trying to think about wine and how it relates to memory is distracting on a hot day. Where is my Pegasus Bay, Neudorf, Mt Difficulty, or Chard Farm Riesling when I want it most?

*I've spent hours and hours wandering round the gardens, "studying", reading, picnicing, having frisbees thrown at my recently reconstructed snozz etc., but it still amazes me that every now and then I stumble upon somewhere I haven't been. (Unless I had been there chasing tissue paper hot air balloons late at night in 1996).

There is an "I" in depression

2005-01-20T13:29:00.000+13:00

So while I'm commiserating with myself about the lack of sexiness but theoretical virtue of the paper I sent out yesterday, I've been for a bit of a trawl back through some of my more favoured interest areas. I was a bit gutted to find that there was a special issue on what I'd like to think is my area of expertise, and I didn't get to contribute.

I did find an interesting article by James Pennebaker, whose work I generally admire (although I do have some problems with his methods occasionally), who has recently found that depressed people use the pronoun "I" more than never-depressed people. Once depressed people start out with a lower frequency of "I", but by the end of their writing, start to use "I" more often. It sounds a bit trivial, but he has done some fascinating work looking at therapeutic uses of writing, and it also neatly ties in with theories of depression relating to over-self-focussing.

Fly my pretty

2005-01-19T13:39:00.000+13:00

The whole purpose of my job is basically to sift through old data, and get it into the public arena. Also, generally speaking, I also have an ethical responsibility to ensure that something similar happens with the data I collected prior to my current job. Further, doing so is likely to advance my career prospects if I stay doing what I'm doing.

So anyway, it's over a year since I last sent something out, but today, finally, I got off my first manuscript that I've been working on almost since I started this job in May. It was quite weird. In the past, it has always been making copies in quintuplicate, and entrusting them to the courier gods. This time, electronic submission meant that less than 20 minutes after I'd finished, I'd been assigned a number and and administrator. However, it took me even less time to discover the first glaring error. I hadn't changed the running head, which very unfortunately reflects a now de-emphasised theoretical aspect. Oops. So I've sent my first "I'm very sorry" email already. Grrr. Oh well.

So what's it all about you might ask? Well, it's quite a theoretical paper (i.e., it's not going to seem directly interesting) on prospective memory, which is your memory for things to do in the future (like an appointment at 4pm, or buying milk on the way home). The paper is mostly concerned with the cues which trigger you to remember that there is something you have to do (like a post-it, or seeing a dairy and remembering to buy milk). Basically, a cue elicits a sense of "significance", some discrepancy from other items you encounter, and triggers a search for an associated action. The paper, broadly speaking, is considering how we assign every day things this sense of "significance" so that we view them as a cue, and how we differentiate these from the general environment. As I said, it's kinda theoretical.

But it is exciting to have it out there. Hopefully some more of my pretties will follow it soon. I don't want to have to wait another 12mo+

Rocket Science

2005-01-18T15:04:00.000+13:00

After destroying my previous chair a couple of months ago, I acquire a new one from one of the various basements our technicians use to hide all manner of odd things. So anyway, after a visit to the physio the other day for a general tune-up, I've been trying to sit better at my chair, but it's mostly been making my back painful, rather than having any life changing benefits.

So anyway, I was a bit annoyed at the seat angle, so eventually turned it upside down. there is a large adjustment knob underneath the seat, which to the best of my knowledge does absolutely nothing. I actually screwed it right off, and it doesn't seem to be connected to anything. So that's all well and good, but only after having turned the chair upside down for the second time did I notice the second very large lever, on the opposite side to the uppy/downy one, which controls the back rest angle....

Want fibre with that?

2005-01-17T21:23:00.000+13:00

While I mostly like to keep this "intelligent" and "respectful", I hope I'm allowed the occasional slip up. Anyway, the former CEO of one of the world's largest fast food companies has died of colorectal cancer, after an admitted frequent eating of said company's product. Now as a scientist, I know that a sample size of one isn't much, but one does have to wonder...

What would Morgan Spurlock have to say?

2005-01-12T18:21:00.000+13:00

A bit scarily, one of the very first houses I got all excited by this year is back on the market!!!!!

I was scared off it because the piles were rotten and/or missing, the eaves were rotting, the roof was shot, the walls were rotting, and I'm not that much of a handyman. It's been somewhat fixed up since then, and correspondingly had a massive jump in price. It still has a great location, and layout etc., and I guess I'll have to go through the open home ... masochist that I am. However, I still think I'm better off with what I have. I just need to keep telling myself that.

Dr Uggs

2005-01-12T11:33:00.000+13:00

Dr Uggs was part of an aborted send-up the year I was in the capping show. It comprised four separate instalments, so the canning was really a big thing -- in fact, it may have been scrapped after failing to go off the first night. It was loosely based round the [some petrol brand] mystery shopper ads that were going down.

Anyway, I'm trying to keep political ranting to a minimum, but one of the servers is down at work, so I'm off working on some of my old projects that are not stored on that server, including one looking at `Adolescent Risk Taking'. I've long `known' (or at least vaguely recollect an authoritative source saying) that the D.A.R.E. program was ineffective, but I've actually been scouting out the science. The evidence is over- or under-welming depending on your perspective. The shit doesn't work. Most of the studies I've dug up find no effect of the program, and for every study that finds that D.A.R.E. keeps kids off drugs, there's one that suggests that indoctrinated children are more likely to take drugs. It would be funny if there wasn't so much time and money tied up in it.

I like to cook...

2005-01-11T21:18:00.000+13:00

It's not to say that I'm unhappy with my new place, but I realised how truly small the kitchen was when I discovered that I couldn't get my favoured knife in the sink. This is of course in part that the knife is big. The blade is 260mm plus handle. You and I both know that size isn't everything, but being heavy as well as big, it slides through carrots or just about anything like butter. I can wash it. It just needs to be on the diagon both horizontally and vertically with a moderately full sink.

Thinking of cooking things, I've long ago realised that basmati is superior to Basics for Indian cooking (as is Jasmine for Asian), but a tip from the ODT recently has tipped me over the edge.

In addition to rinsing your rice (soak rice in water, swirl with fingers, empty, repeat, soak again for 30min, empty) and add a few crushed Cardamon pods (so easy with such a large knife), crushed black peppercorns, and a couple of slices of fresh ginger. And Wala! (as the french say), rice as good as an Indian resturant.

OE -O

2005-01-10T13:43:00.000+13:00

I sometimes feel like I'm being a bit dull, having not ended up with a job far from home. I did have an interview for a job in Cardiff, which would have been pretty cool, but in the end, I'm still in Dunedin, and with a house here, am unlikely to move in the near future.

Thus, I was relieved to read this piece by ex-Critic editor Patrick Crewdson based on the doctoral research of a Lincoln student. She found that on the whole, the "overseas" compononent in the OE was pretty minimal. When I was in London (on my way to fall in love with Cardiff as it happens), my impression was that people were going to work and the gym, then flatting and getting drunk with people they knew from New Zealand. Apart from a lack of space, taking the tube to work, and a weekend in Paris every couple of months, they may as well have been in Ashburton.

The song remains the same...

2005-01-09T10:24:00.000+13:00

I'm a bit of a closet fan of electronica, in addition to my other musical loves. I wouldn't claim to be an expert, I've just found a few things that I love, such as Jet Jaguar and Can *. I like the piece that
Kraftwerk did for Expo 2000 (although perhaps in part because I was
there), but I find most of their stuff a bit out there for my tastes.

So anyway, I got up early this Sunday morning, and turned on Radio 1 because I was after something a bit mellow. They were playing this quite cool electronic piece. After making 2 espressos and preparing the weetbix, it occurred to me that the music didn't appear to have
changed. It could have been a CD skipping, unbeknownst to the Radio 1 robot, unattended by humankind, or it could merely have been a bit more of an experimental piece, with a long interlude of very similar repeating sounds slowly morphing over time. Anyway, after breakfast and dropping L* at work, I flicked back to Radio 1. Still going. And now, almost 90 minutes later, it's still going. It still sounds quite cool, but it's got to be skipping now.

CODA: So I called up; turns out the computer is on the blink and was
stuck doing whatever.

* And yes, I'm a bit gutted that Damo Suzuki has been playing Auckland and Wellington but not made it this far south.

Bypass my arse

2004-12-23T13:01:00.000+13:00

So I guess you're probably wondering why I'd bother taking an actual film print of such a rundown old dump? Well, my great great grandparents lived in this house during winter (their summer house was in eastbourne). And why does it look so decrepit? Well, it is (/was?) on Willis St, in the way of the unlovely bypass.

[I am stoked to have some photos back after my last debacle. But it does make me wonder whether it's not about time I finally purchase d digital camera, cause man some of these photos are such old news]

Limegreen's Rough Guide to the Wine Aisle for Christmas

2004-12-21T20:36:00.000+13:00

I'd only ever consider buying these at full price if they have 4 stars...
Prices indicate specials rather than full retail, unless they're not usually on special

Riesling
Queen Adelaide** (drinkable, pay no more than $7)
McWilliams Inheritance** (ditto)
Montana**** (slightly sweeter, lush, aim to pay $11-$12 on special)

Bubbles
Jacob's Creek*** ($9, much more refined than Lindauer)
Morton Estate**** ($18)
Lambrusco**** ($9, a sweetish, choclately sparking red!)

Pinot Gris
Corbans*** (aim for $12 special)
Sacred Hill Whitecliffs*** (ditto)

Chardonnay
Burn in hell heathen

Semillion
Montana** (if you really have to cater to a Chardonnay liker, then this is OK on special, and will probably do the trick)

Reds
Ok, so either my palate is changing, or drinkable cheap reds are becoming harder to come by

Villa Maria Cab/Merlot/Shiraz** (or something to that effect, Ok, for around $9)
Penfolds Koonunga Hill Cabernet(/Merlot?)*** ($12 on special)
Penfolds Thomas Hyland Cabernet**** ($16 on special)
Graffigna Malbec ($12)

Pretence on a Shoestring
For functions where something a little more interesting/obscure will win you brownie points

Wither Hills Sauvignon Blanc**** ($15)
Astrolabe Sauvigon Blanc**** ($19)
Pegasus Bay Riesling**** ($25)
Mt Difficulty Riesling**** ($22)
Ashwood Grove Cabernet Petit Verdot**** (Petit Verdot is part of the traditional Bordeaux blend and features in some of the very pinnacle of NZ reds, ie Stonyridge Larose)
Saddleback Pinot Noir**** (Peregrine's second label, sharply priced $26)

Shopped Out

2004-12-21T14:06:00.000+13:00

I'm quietly pleased to have finished my christmas shopping. Actually, I'm quite pleased to have a respite from shopping full stop. As you may have inferred already, I've been doing a lot of shopping lately. I've spent evening browsing junkmail looking for cheap MDF, vacuum cleaners, fridges, DVD players, lawnmowers, rubbish bins, compost bins and so the list goes on[1]. Then to have this abut christmas shopping has meant far far too much time in shops. I've been to each of Briscoes, Mitre 10, and the Warehouse, among others, at least once most weekends.

I also have a bit of a reputation for being grinchy round christmas. It's not that I'm un-predisposed to christmas, just that I hate the consumerism and palaverishness and frenzying and neologising[2] that tends to accompany christmas. Pre-christmas ought to be a lovely and peaceful time (well it is around the university at least). Harumph.

[1] NB -- I haven't bought all of those things, I've just considered buying them.
[2] ahahaha. geek.