Poor Malcolm Turnbull. He sounds half reasonable to me on the topic of CO2 emissions but is caught in a bind. Even though the Rudd ETS is probably an extravagant waste of time from a scientific point of view, as is probably about 95% of all nations' approaches to greenhouse gases, people like the idea of doing something better than the idea of doing nothing. Politically something has to be done, but a divided Coalition is giving every reason for the public to think they can't be trusted to do a damn thing.
Why do no politicians talk of ocean acidification as an independent reason for taking action? Here's some more depressing news from the ocean acidification blog:
* two studies indicating bad news for corals due to effects on important symbiotic relationships
* some reef fish don't seem to like it either
* another study showing a couple of bivalves (clams and scallops) don't take lower pH well.
I saw Malcolm Turnbull on Insiders last Sunday arguing that action on AGW was the prudent thing to do given the weight of science. Quite right; but why not also mention ocean acidification, given that it appears increasingly well founded that future changes to ocean chemistry are a gigantic ecological crapshoot.
Wednesday, October 07, 2009
Delicious
Fries with your Mona Lisa? Big Macs move on Louvre
They'll be protesters in the streets of Paris threateningly waving french sticks around over this one. But as the story notes:
* the Angus beef burgers are surprisingly bland. Neither my wife nor I were particularly impressed. I would stick to the McFeast if I were you.
* the deluxe cheeseburger is good for a quick lunch
* the hot coffee from the machine is pretty good, but the new iced coffee is just a premix from a bottle and is not so good
* some of the crispy chicken burgers are pretty good.
By the way, it would seem that the Australian menu is significantly more extensive than the one in France, especially when it comes to chicken choices.
They'll be protesters in the streets of Paris threateningly waving french sticks around over this one. But as the story notes:
The French seem to love McDonald's. While business in brasseries and bistros is in free fall, the fast food group opened 30 outlets last year in France and welcomed 450 million customers.As for my current opinion of McD in Australia, I note:
* the Angus beef burgers are surprisingly bland. Neither my wife nor I were particularly impressed. I would stick to the McFeast if I were you.
* the deluxe cheeseburger is good for a quick lunch
* the hot coffee from the machine is pretty good, but the new iced coffee is just a premix from a bottle and is not so good
* some of the crispy chicken burgers are pretty good.
By the way, it would seem that the Australian menu is significantly more extensive than the one in France, especially when it comes to chicken choices.
Tuesday, October 06, 2009
Evolving goodness (and yes, back to God again)
Frans de Waal's The Age of Empathy. - Slate Magazine
Further to today's lengthy post on the ultimate value of emotions, it's worthwhile reading this article on the increasing research into the animal predecessors to the "good" human emotions.
(You should at least read it to see how empathy is not evenly spread around the primate world. Baboons are apparently not very nice.)
Such "bottom up" arguments for the evolution of a human sense of morality are used to attack the "top down" (god derived) arguments for our sense of morality, of which CS Lewis was a notable proponent. In Mere Christianity, Chapter 2, Lewis tried to answer "objections" that morality is really all about instinct by arguing that if you have competing instincts in facing a particular situation, there is a third bit of your mind by which you judge one of those instincts as more worthy than the other. He has various ways of proposing why it is not merely a case of the strongest instinct always winning, but I don't really have time to set them out here.
Lewis' arguments still seem to me to be quite clever, but given the mystery of the workings of the inner mind, I can certainly see how they are also far from conclusive.
In any event, I'm not sure that increasing evidence of animal instinctive kindness is necessarily threatening to Catholic style belief in God, which by and large has accommodated evolution. Why should it surprise us that what we value in our feelings should be shared in some instinctively understood way by our closest animal relatives? The real issue (and here I guess I am more or less following the Lewis line) is how our human rationality deals with those instincts, and whether there is reason to believe that there is God who cares about those choices.
Further to today's lengthy post on the ultimate value of emotions, it's worthwhile reading this article on the increasing research into the animal predecessors to the "good" human emotions.
(You should at least read it to see how empathy is not evenly spread around the primate world. Baboons are apparently not very nice.)
Such "bottom up" arguments for the evolution of a human sense of morality are used to attack the "top down" (god derived) arguments for our sense of morality, of which CS Lewis was a notable proponent. In Mere Christianity, Chapter 2, Lewis tried to answer "objections" that morality is really all about instinct by arguing that if you have competing instincts in facing a particular situation, there is a third bit of your mind by which you judge one of those instincts as more worthy than the other. He has various ways of proposing why it is not merely a case of the strongest instinct always winning, but I don't really have time to set them out here.
Lewis' arguments still seem to me to be quite clever, but given the mystery of the workings of the inner mind, I can certainly see how they are also far from conclusive.
In any event, I'm not sure that increasing evidence of animal instinctive kindness is necessarily threatening to Catholic style belief in God, which by and large has accommodated evolution. Why should it surprise us that what we value in our feelings should be shared in some instinctively understood way by our closest animal relatives? The real issue (and here I guess I am more or less following the Lewis line) is how our human rationality deals with those instincts, and whether there is reason to believe that there is God who cares about those choices.
Against the silence
It's pretty quiet around here lately. Sure, Tim still comments sometimes, but Geoff and Caz haven't for a while, and I don't know what's happened to MCB. I get the occasional new commenter, which I don't always respond to. Is that impolite? Maybe I should start replying to the spam comments that turn up. WOW Gold, indeed.
Just feels a bit like rattling around an empty house on a Sunday afternoon here sometimes. (I never got the hang of Sunday afternoons. They still strike me as unsatisfactory.)
Just feels a bit like rattling around an empty house on a Sunday afternoon here sometimes. (I never got the hang of Sunday afternoons. They still strike me as unsatisfactory.)
In praise of Stop Making Sense
Talking Heads: 'Stop Making Sense' 25th anniversary Blu-ray release: How well does the concert film age?
Extremely well, says this article, and I am sure I would agree. Anyone care to buy me a Blu Ray device and the disc in return for a review? No, thought not.
Extremely well, says this article, and I am sure I would agree. Anyone care to buy me a Blu Ray device and the disc in return for a review? No, thought not.
More God talk, sorry about that
'The Case for God,' by Karen Armstrong - Review - NYTimes.com
Well well. I had my own extended comments on Karen Armstrong's latest book back in July, in which I doubted her characterisation of early Christianity.
I think its fair to say that this review in the New York Times, while not entirely unsympathetic to Armstrong, pretty much supports my take. First, remember that her key argument (as summarised in the review) was that the Christian Church fathers:
Well well. I had my own extended comments on Karen Armstrong's latest book back in July, in which I doubted her characterisation of early Christianity.
I think its fair to say that this review in the New York Times, while not entirely unsympathetic to Armstrong, pretty much supports my take. First, remember that her key argument (as summarised in the review) was that the Christian Church fathers:
...understood faith primarily as a practice, rather than as a system — not as “something that people thought but something they did.” Their God was not a being to be defined or a proposition to be tested, but an ultimate reality to be approached through myth, ritual and “apophatic” theology, which practices “a deliberate and principled reticence about God and/or the sacred” and emphasizes what we can’t know about the divine.The reviewer notes that this claim needs to be highly qualified:
Armstrong concedes that the religious story she’s telling highlights only a particular trend within monotheistic faith. The casual reader, however, would be forgiven for thinking that the leading lights of premodern Christianity were essentially liberal Episcopalians avant la lettre.I quite agree.
In reality, these Christian sages were fiercely dogmatic by any modern standard. They were not fundamentalists, reading every line of Scripture literally, and they were, as Armstrong says, “inventive, fearless and confident in their interpretation of faith.” But their inventiveness was grounded in shared doctrines and constrained by shared assumptions. Their theology was reticent in its claims about the ultimate nature of God but very specific about how God had revealed himself on earth. It’s true that Augustine, for instance, did not interpret the early books of Genesis literally. But he certainly endorsed a literal reading of Jesus’ resurrection — and he wouldn’t have been much of a Christian theologian if he hadn’t.
Which is to say that it’s considerably more difficult than Armstrong allows to separate thought from action, teaching from conduct, and dogma from practice in religious history. The dogmas tend to sustain the practices, and vice versa. It’s possible to gain some sort of “knack” for a religion without believing that all its dogmas are literally true: a spiritually inclined person can no doubt draw nourishment from the Roman Catholic Mass without believing that the Eucharist literally becomes the body and blood of Christ. But without the doctrine of transubstantiation, the Mass would not exist to provide that nourishment. Not every churchgoer will share Flannery O’Connor’s opinion that if the Eucharist is “a symbol, to hell with it.” But the Catholic faith has endured for 2,000 years because of Flannery O’Connors, not Karen Armstrongs.
Monday, October 05, 2009
Divine thoughts. (Warning: God talk and stuff)
Did God give me the hiccups? The Guardian
A pretty amusing anecdote from an atheist here. I like to think the answer to the question is "yes". It's just the right level of divine action towards an atheist about to go out proselytising: enough to make them wonder a little, even though no harm was done.
While we're on the topic of God and atheists, I finally finished Julian Barnes' "Nothing to be Frightened of". It is, by and large, a pretty enjoyable rambling bit of self-analysis and family memoir dealing with why he's always dreaded death. Most reviews note that it starts with the unusual line "I don't believe in God, but I miss him". (Well, maybe not so unusual. I see from another recently read book that a similar line of thought is expressed by one of the characters in Catch 22.)
Barnes has never been a believer, but he can understand the attraction of faith. He moved from youthful atheism to middle aged agnosticism. I suppose on that trajectory, he might end up a believer by the time he dies, even though he would not see that as at all likely.
I quite liked this passage about a commonly repeated theme in modern atheism:
But if you take a merely naturalistic view of the universe, what intrinsic value does any emotion really have? Not much, when you get down to it. In a 1995 Richard Dawkins' interview for a Christian publication, he pretty much acknowledges this:
It seems to me that atheists should really all intellectually be Zen Buddhists when it comes to the question of suffering. (Indeed, Susan Blackmore, the UK psychologist pretty popular in skeptic circles, follows Zen philosophy while not signing up fully with the religion.) That is, life is suffering, but it is ultimately all an illusion caused by desire which can be overcome by understanding the true nature of the universe.
But when they get into arguments on Christian style theodicy, it seems few atheists can avoid arguing as if the emotional power of suffering is itself the knock out blow against the idea of a good God. In doing so, aren't they elevating the emotional far above what their beliefs about the nature of the universe mean intellectually?
You could say that when it comes to Christians who suffer a crisis of faith due to (say) the death or suffering of a child, they also are experiencing a disjoint between their previous intellectual understanding of the universe (which accepts that a good God can allow suffering) against the intense pain and sense of injustice suddenly experienced in their own life. But at least in their case, the crisis has started from a belief that the love they have for the child is subset of the true, universal Love that is more than a passing emotion caused as by-product of the selfish gene. The Christian cannot undervalue love, hence the interference with the experience of it now is all the greater challenge.
Both atheists and believers having a faith crisis may feel that some forms of theodicy are like an insult, in that in attempting to intellectually explain their pain, it seems to be excusing or devaluing the depth of their emotional experience. But, without intending any insult or demeaning of their emotions, isn't it true that atheists have an intellectual understanding that downplays the significance of emotion in the big scheme of things anyway?
Maybe the argument is that, by religion giving people hope that love does triumph, it is setting them up for greater sense of loss when the world doesn't seem to pan out that way. I can understand the point, except that it is also starts from the assumption that their atheism is clearly true, and that all sensible people, like children who give up belief in Santa Clause, will ultimately end up at that position. I don't accept that assumption and consider that, at most, if you are not going to believe in God, agnosticism is the only really intellectually defensible alternative. Agnostics tend to let believers be, and some, like Julian Barnes, seem to even allow for a degree of envy.
Ultimately, I agree with the view that few atheists are rigorous in following their beliefs where they should intellectually take them, yet they are not inclined to admit it.
And finally, I see that soon after his book about death was published last year, Julian Barne's wife died. Presumably, this was a sudden and unexpected event, as he gives no indication in his book or in interviews that his wife's health had anything to do with his writing about death. I have to admit to an intrusive, and some would say, morbid interest in how Barnes has coped with this, and whether it has changed his attitudes in any way. As with other examples I can think of (CS Lewis having a shot at theodicy in The Problem of Pain, and then suffering badly when he finally fell in love and his wife promptly died), it certainly encourages the superstition that it is bad luck to talk about such things at all, and hence I should stop right now.
A pretty amusing anecdote from an atheist here. I like to think the answer to the question is "yes". It's just the right level of divine action towards an atheist about to go out proselytising: enough to make them wonder a little, even though no harm was done.
While we're on the topic of God and atheists, I finally finished Julian Barnes' "Nothing to be Frightened of". It is, by and large, a pretty enjoyable rambling bit of self-analysis and family memoir dealing with why he's always dreaded death. Most reviews note that it starts with the unusual line "I don't believe in God, but I miss him". (Well, maybe not so unusual. I see from another recently read book that a similar line of thought is expressed by one of the characters in Catch 22.)
Barnes has never been a believer, but he can understand the attraction of faith. He moved from youthful atheism to middle aged agnosticism. I suppose on that trajectory, he might end up a believer by the time he dies, even though he would not see that as at all likely.
I quite liked this passage about a commonly repeated theme in modern atheism:
Atheists in morally superior Category One (no God, no fear of death) like to tell us that the lack of a deity should not in any way diminish our sense of wonder in the universe. It may have all seemed both miraculous and user friendly when we imagined God had laid it on especially for us, from the harmony of the snowflake and the complex allusiveness of the passion flower to the spectacular showmanship of a solar eclipse. But if everything still moves without a Prime Mover, why should it be less wonderful? Why should we be children needing the teacher to show us things? The Antarctic penguin, for instance, is just as regal and comic, just as graceful and awkward, whether pre- or post-Darwin. Grow up, and let's examine together the allure of the double helix, the darkling glimmer of deep space, the infinite adjustments of plumage which demonstrate the laws of evolution, and the packed, elusive mechanism of the human brain. Why do we need some God to help us marvel at such things?You can, of course, extend this line of scepticism about the sense of wonder to every thought or emotion any human ever has, and argue that atheists, if consistent, should really all end up being nihilists. (Wikipedia says "Most commonly, nihilism is presented in the form of existential nihilism which argues that life is without objective meaning, purpose, or intrinsic value.") Most modern atheists don't take this line: they deny that their lack of belief is any detriment to the enjoyment of life; indeed, many argue that lack of belief in God is liberation to really enjoy all that life has to offer. The idea is that they are better off both intellectually and emotionally.
We don't. Not really. And yet. If what is out there comes from nothing, if all is unrolling mechanically according to a programme laid down by nobody, and if our perceptions of it are mere micro-movements of biochemical activity, the mere snap and crackle of a few synapses, then what does this sense of wonder amount to? Should we not be a little more suspicious of it? A dung beetle might well have a primitive sense of awe at the size of the mighty dung ball it is rolling. Is this wonder of ours merely a posher version?
But if you take a merely naturalistic view of the universe, what intrinsic value does any emotion really have? Not much, when you get down to it. In a 1995 Richard Dawkins' interview for a Christian publication, he pretty much acknowledges this:
I will dip my toe into the dangerous world of theodicy now (and before doing so again offer my usual silent prayer that I not be personally tested by any intense experience of tragedy.)You would say that love is a spurious purpose?
Well, love is not a purpose, love is an emotion (which I certainly feel) which is another of those properties of brains.
A by-product?
Well, it's probably more than just a by-product. It's probably a very important product for gene survival. Certainly, sexual love would be, and so would parental love and various other sorts of love.
But to say that love is the purpose of life doesn't in any way chime in with the understanding of life which I feel we have achieved.
It seems to me that atheists should really all intellectually be Zen Buddhists when it comes to the question of suffering. (Indeed, Susan Blackmore, the UK psychologist pretty popular in skeptic circles, follows Zen philosophy while not signing up fully with the religion.) That is, life is suffering, but it is ultimately all an illusion caused by desire which can be overcome by understanding the true nature of the universe.
But when they get into arguments on Christian style theodicy, it seems few atheists can avoid arguing as if the emotional power of suffering is itself the knock out blow against the idea of a good God. In doing so, aren't they elevating the emotional far above what their beliefs about the nature of the universe mean intellectually?
You could say that when it comes to Christians who suffer a crisis of faith due to (say) the death or suffering of a child, they also are experiencing a disjoint between their previous intellectual understanding of the universe (which accepts that a good God can allow suffering) against the intense pain and sense of injustice suddenly experienced in their own life. But at least in their case, the crisis has started from a belief that the love they have for the child is subset of the true, universal Love that is more than a passing emotion caused as by-product of the selfish gene. The Christian cannot undervalue love, hence the interference with the experience of it now is all the greater challenge.
Both atheists and believers having a faith crisis may feel that some forms of theodicy are like an insult, in that in attempting to intellectually explain their pain, it seems to be excusing or devaluing the depth of their emotional experience. But, without intending any insult or demeaning of their emotions, isn't it true that atheists have an intellectual understanding that downplays the significance of emotion in the big scheme of things anyway?
Maybe the argument is that, by religion giving people hope that love does triumph, it is setting them up for greater sense of loss when the world doesn't seem to pan out that way. I can understand the point, except that it is also starts from the assumption that their atheism is clearly true, and that all sensible people, like children who give up belief in Santa Clause, will ultimately end up at that position. I don't accept that assumption and consider that, at most, if you are not going to believe in God, agnosticism is the only really intellectually defensible alternative. Agnostics tend to let believers be, and some, like Julian Barnes, seem to even allow for a degree of envy.
Ultimately, I agree with the view that few atheists are rigorous in following their beliefs where they should intellectually take them, yet they are not inclined to admit it.
And finally, I see that soon after his book about death was published last year, Julian Barne's wife died. Presumably, this was a sudden and unexpected event, as he gives no indication in his book or in interviews that his wife's health had anything to do with his writing about death. I have to admit to an intrusive, and some would say, morbid interest in how Barnes has coped with this, and whether it has changed his attitudes in any way. As with other examples I can think of (CS Lewis having a shot at theodicy in The Problem of Pain, and then suffering badly when he finally fell in love and his wife promptly died), it certainly encourages the superstition that it is bad luck to talk about such things at all, and hence I should stop right now.
Yawn
I'm feeling a little out of sorts lately. It's probably the spring time return of early morning sun. My body clock seems to have switched to a 6 am wake up, every morning, regardless of what time I go to bed.
The lack of daylight saving in Brisbane and the nearby coast can really play havoc with sleep. Years ago, I was living in a place where a particular wild bird used to start every summer morning with its loud and distinctive call at the very crack of dawn. Seriously, it was not when the sun rose (which is early enough - as you can see from this table, it's 4.45 am for a good few weeks of November and December) but just as soon as there was some vague brightening in the sky. (Actually, that table I just linked to includes listings for "civil twilight start", which might indicate roughly the time the bird started its call. You can see it's 4.19 am in November and December.) The call would continue for about 20 minutes, then stop. I never heard it again during the day.
Can you imagine how annoying it is to be woken for 20 minutes at 4.20 - 4.45 for about 3 months of the year? It was impossible to sleep through. I occasionally took to trying to throw things into the neighbour's tree that it seemed to live in, but it was just out of range. I never identified what the bird was, and now I have forgotten the exact sound it made.
In my books, going to bed after 10 pm is not all that radical an idea. In fact, I have routinely been about a 11 - 12 pm sleeper for about as long as I can remember. If you can sleep in til 6 to 7 am, that's fine. But 4.30 - that's ridiculous.
I don't have too big a problem with birds where I live at the moment. Instead, it's the stupid young adults in the house behind me that like to sit outside at 2 am (or, this last Sunday morning, 5 am) and have loud conversations. Their entertainment area is hidden from view from our bedroom window behind some palms, but they seem to think that if you can't see them you can't hear them. I recently wrote to the parents about it and (to their credit) did get a call of apology for what their sons and friends do. The number of times we have heard them late on a weekend night has decreased a little since then, as has the volume of conversation, but now it seems to be on the way up again. I wish them misery from noisy inconsiderate young people when they have reached my age.
Then, this morning, at 12.45am, someone let a bunch of fireworks off somewhere near the house. It was "cracker" type, perhaps left over from Chinatown, but the only house which may have Chinese neighbours mostly seems to be in darkness. There was no sign of who let them off when I looked at the window. No sound of laughing or anything. I don't think they were aimed at my house in particular, and I heard a neighbour's door opening to see what was going on. Strange.
The lack of daylight saving in Brisbane and the nearby coast can really play havoc with sleep. Years ago, I was living in a place where a particular wild bird used to start every summer morning with its loud and distinctive call at the very crack of dawn. Seriously, it was not when the sun rose (which is early enough - as you can see from this table, it's 4.45 am for a good few weeks of November and December) but just as soon as there was some vague brightening in the sky. (Actually, that table I just linked to includes listings for "civil twilight start", which might indicate roughly the time the bird started its call. You can see it's 4.19 am in November and December.) The call would continue for about 20 minutes, then stop. I never heard it again during the day.
Can you imagine how annoying it is to be woken for 20 minutes at 4.20 - 4.45 for about 3 months of the year? It was impossible to sleep through. I occasionally took to trying to throw things into the neighbour's tree that it seemed to live in, but it was just out of range. I never identified what the bird was, and now I have forgotten the exact sound it made.
In my books, going to bed after 10 pm is not all that radical an idea. In fact, I have routinely been about a 11 - 12 pm sleeper for about as long as I can remember. If you can sleep in til 6 to 7 am, that's fine. But 4.30 - that's ridiculous.
I don't have too big a problem with birds where I live at the moment. Instead, it's the stupid young adults in the house behind me that like to sit outside at 2 am (or, this last Sunday morning, 5 am) and have loud conversations. Their entertainment area is hidden from view from our bedroom window behind some palms, but they seem to think that if you can't see them you can't hear them. I recently wrote to the parents about it and (to their credit) did get a call of apology for what their sons and friends do. The number of times we have heard them late on a weekend night has decreased a little since then, as has the volume of conversation, but now it seems to be on the way up again. I wish them misery from noisy inconsiderate young people when they have reached my age.
Then, this morning, at 12.45am, someone let a bunch of fireworks off somewhere near the house. It was "cracker" type, perhaps left over from Chinatown, but the only house which may have Chinese neighbours mostly seems to be in darkness. There was no sign of who let them off when I looked at the window. No sound of laughing or anything. I don't think they were aimed at my house in particular, and I heard a neighbour's door opening to see what was going on. Strange.
Sunday, October 04, 2009
Fly the not-so-friendly skies
Air India pilots, crew come to blows at 30,000 ft
A mid-air incident that would sound a little improbable in a comedy:
A mid-air incident that would sound a little improbable in a comedy:
The cabin crew alleged that pilots harassed a 24-year-old female colleague who later filed a molestation complaint against them with the cops after the flight landed in Delhi.
The pilots, on the other hand, accused a male flight purser of misconduct that seriously compromised flight safety...
No party denied that blows and abuses were exchanged as bewildered passengers looked on. Sources said that the female cabin crew member and the co-pilot sustained bruises.....
There were unconfirmed reports that at one stage the cockpit was unmanned, as the crew was busy fighting outside. Things allegedly degenerated to the point where the captain threatened to divert the plane to Karachi, likening the situation, sources said, to a "hijack".
Saturday, October 03, 2009
Cockroach lesson
Cockroach inspires heart created by Indian doctor Sujoy Guha - Times Online
This story starts with a very unexpected claim:
This story starts with a very unexpected claim:
A ground-breaking £1,500 artificial heart inspired by the anatomy of the cockroach could revolutionise human cardiac care, scientists in India believe.But it seems to make sense:
You learn something every day.The human heart has four chambers, but only the left ventricle is responsible for building the pressure that moves blood around the body. Depending on one chamber to do the hard work places this part of an artificial heart under enormous strain....
By contrast, his prosthetic heart builds pressure in stages, through five chambers — a model based on the anatomy of a cockroach. He has been working on his prototype heart, which is made from titanium and plastic and runs on batteries that can be recharged from outside the body, since the early 1960s.
The heart of the cockroach has 13 chambers, which build pressure in a series of steps. If one fails, the animal still continues living. “When I was learning my biology I became fascinated by the cockroach,” Dr Guha told The Times. “It is hardy [and] survives extreme conditions. It came into this world before humans and will survive beyond us.”
Friday, October 02, 2009
Chronologically confused
This has been a chronologically confusing week. First, discovering that James Bond is much younger than me made me feel old; but by midweek, a TV show which seemed to me to have been off the air for longer than it actually has (Hey Hey It's Saturday) reappeared, except on a Wednesday night. Furthermore, its host looked like he had just stepped out of the deep freeze, with nary a wrinkle to be added to his face over the last 10 years. (I heard a Brisbane radio announcer saying the next day that "he's had work, no doubt about it.") But really, few of the crew looked as further aged as I had imagined they would.
The success of the Hey Hey reunion show is no doubt annoying Catherine Deveny, which is always a good thing. But it clearly was a winner: the comments of the mid to high brow readers of the ABC news website are overwhelmingly positive. An often repeated theme is that it was a pleasure to have back on TV something other than crime shows or reality TV.
I didn't see all of it, but was pleased enough with what I did see. (If, however, they do come back on some sort of permanent basis, they really do have to stop featuring the never-retiring John Farnham.) But overall, I was never too cool for the show.
It was always lightweight, friendly TV made by a fairly quick-witted bunch of people, even if you could tell that you wouldn't want to spend any time with Somers in person. You didn't need to sit down and watch from start to end, but as something on in the background that you could dip into while getting ready to go out somewhere; or on a dateless night, while having a few glasses of wine and a meal of some just cooked new recipe, it was just right.
Yes, here's to the return of daggy TV.
The success of the Hey Hey reunion show is no doubt annoying Catherine Deveny, which is always a good thing. But it clearly was a winner: the comments of the mid to high brow readers of the ABC news website are overwhelmingly positive. An often repeated theme is that it was a pleasure to have back on TV something other than crime shows or reality TV.
I didn't see all of it, but was pleased enough with what I did see. (If, however, they do come back on some sort of permanent basis, they really do have to stop featuring the never-retiring John Farnham.) But overall, I was never too cool for the show.
It was always lightweight, friendly TV made by a fairly quick-witted bunch of people, even if you could tell that you wouldn't want to spend any time with Somers in person. You didn't need to sit down and watch from start to end, but as something on in the background that you could dip into while getting ready to go out somewhere; or on a dateless night, while having a few glasses of wine and a meal of some just cooked new recipe, it was just right.
Yes, here's to the return of daggy TV.
Thursday, October 01, 2009
Another giant robot visits Japan
I can't seem to link directly to the story, but have a look at today's Japan Times [sorry, photo seems to have gone from here, see update below] to see a photo of full scale Tetsujin (otherwise known as Gigantor in the West) just finished in Kobe.
Why build a giant robot? The article mentions that the city was devastated by an earthquake in 1995, and:
UPDATE: Sorry, the Japan Times seems to be making it hard to track down its Tetsujin photo. You can see it instead here at Kyodo News, and I'm sure there will be many more photos to come when it is officially open.
And in further big robot news, I see that South Korea plans to build the biggest giant robot statue of them all, of Voltar, a giant robot with which I am not terribly familiar. Yes, it's a regional Giant Robot Race, because we all understand the prestige that goes with having the biggest robot. Don't we?
Why build a giant robot? The article mentions that the city was devastated by an earthquake in 1995, and:
Residents built the steel statue to express their hopes for the city's revival with the help of the classic comic hero from the 1950sOf course. Devastating earthquake: build giant robot. Let's hope Indonesia reads the fine print in any offer of assistance from Japan.
UPDATE: Sorry, the Japan Times seems to be making it hard to track down its Tetsujin photo. You can see it instead here at Kyodo News, and I'm sure there will be many more photos to come when it is officially open.
And in further big robot news, I see that South Korea plans to build the biggest giant robot statue of them all, of Voltar, a giant robot with which I am not terribly familiar. Yes, it's a regional Giant Robot Race, because we all understand the prestige that goes with having the biggest robot. Don't we?
Where did evolution go wrong?
Fruit fly sperm makes females do housework after sex
(Then again, maybe the female fruit fly keeps going back to the mate and saying "get out of bed, you haven't mowed the yard yet.")
(Then again, maybe the female fruit fly keeps going back to the mate and saying "get out of bed, you haven't mowed the yard yet.")
Your hunch was probably right
Major quakes can weaken seismic faults far away, scientists say
I always thought that it seemed that major earthquakes in distant locations happened in clusters.
There also seems to be an unusually large amount of natural disaster and death and general mayhem going on around Australia at the moment. Maybe time to look for a suitable charity to donate to.
I always thought that it seemed that major earthquakes in distant locations happened in clusters.
There also seems to be an unusually large amount of natural disaster and death and general mayhem going on around Australia at the moment. Maybe time to look for a suitable charity to donate to.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Not your average school fete...
Decapitation: School fete turns violen:
Police in Papua New Guinea are hunting for a notorious criminal after violence at a school fete left eight people dead and a severed head hanging from a power pole.
According to local media, an armed gang attacked villagers gathered at the fete in Kainantu district last Friday, and killed four people.
One report said the gang's leader interrupted a speech by a local magistrate, produced a gun and shot him dead.
The villagers retaliated by killing three of the gang members. One was beheaded and the head hung on a power pole.
Speaking of old...
I noted yesterday (in a report about the Hugh Jackman and the mobile phone incident) that his co-star, Daniel Craig, is only 41. Wikipedia confirms this.
I think I have discovered a new benchmark for deciding you are getting old: when James Bond is significantly younger than yourself.
I think I have discovered a new benchmark for deciding you are getting old: when James Bond is significantly younger than yourself.
Cranky old man
Gore Vidal: ‘We’ll have a dictatorship soon in the US’ - Times Online
Is it possible for Gore to sound any crankier? A sample:
Is it possible for Gore to sound any crankier? A sample:
America has “no intellectual class” and is “rotting away at a funereal pace. We’ll have a military dictatorship fairly soon, on the basis that nobody else can hold everything together. Obama would have been better off focusing on educating the American people. His problem is being over-educated. He doesn’t realise how dim-witted and ignorant his audience is...
His voice strengthens. “One thing I have hated all my life are LIARS [he says that with bristling anger] and I live in a nation of them. It was not always the case. I don’t demand honour, that can be lies too. I don’t say there was a golden age, but there was an age of general intelligence. We had a watchdog, the media.” The media is too supine? “Would that it was. They’re busy preparing us for an Iranian war.”...
Has he met Obama? “No,” he says quietly, “I’ve had my time with presidents.” Vidal raises his fingers to signify a gun and mutters: “Bang bang.” He is referring to the possibility of Obama being assassinated. “Just a mysterious lone gunman lurking in the shadows of the capital,” he says in a wry, dreamy way.
Restless youth (with some justification)
Gulfnews: Saudi Arabia flogs teenagers after rare riots in eastern region
Saudi Arabia flogged a group of teenagers after a rare riot in the eastern region of the kingdom in which shops and restaurants were ransacked, a witness and local newspapers said on Tuesday.Human rights activists and liberals condemned Monday's flogging, which Saudi newspapers said happened after groups of young people smashed windows of restaurants and shops in Khobar on Saudi national day last week.
Quite reasonably, the suggestion is that youth has nothing to do in that country:
"This terrible event reflects the need to allow more space for the youth in terms of sport clubs, movie theatres and recreation facilities," said columnist Abdullah Al Alami, who lives in Khobar.
Restaurants, movie theatres and concerts are banned in the Gulf state, while many restaurants and sometimes even shopping malls cater to families only.
Religious police roam streets to make sure no unrelated men and women mix.
"Young males are shunted to the street, with nothing to do and no place to go," former US diplomat John Burgess said in his Saudi blog "Crossroads Arabia".
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