So...

April the 1st, 2011 was the last time I posted here - April Fools Day :/


I wonder does that mean something...or even should it? Or given the meteor I witnessed tonight and my subsequent thoughts on the matter, is it all nothing but sheer serendipity?


Who knows, right? We all have our thoughts on it, obviously. In any event I think until proof can be provided none knows any more than the other.
But here's a take on it:

The meteor as it happens flashed into my sight, and here's some serendipity for you, just as I happened to be looking skyward. It blazed across the night sky, with a tail (considering perspective) thousands of miles long and a head which grew brighter and brighter as it burned up in the atmosphere until it burned out.
The whole thing lasted perhaps a second. And I involuntarily grinned ear to ear at having seen such a sight.

So it got me thinking: from where did this body originate? Was it the detritus of an interstellar collision? Had this piece of rock - of another world perhaps - been travelling from before I was born, you were born, the earth was born? Has it been in perpetual motion for millienia? And was it nothing more than the aforementioned sheer serendipity, happenstance that it came into our solar system, and into our little world before burning up in our atmosphere?


This little rock. Was it older than mankind? Was its year a number too big to compute? Just how long was it sailing through the blackness of space?
Only to disintegrate after all that?

Puts something of a perspective on life, I thought. We really are...nothing in the big scheme of things. Insignificant, trivial, to all but ourselves.



Which leads me to the meaning of life...the point of it all. (Tip: it has nothing at all to do with any type of god, per se).


M

I've been trying to think of something to write here in this blogger-type thing but like a wise man once said, "there's nothing new under the sun".
Which is to say, society faces the same issues and problems it always has, and pretty much all those issues can already be found in this blog, or discussions thereof to be more exact.
So, it occurred to me, what better way to reintroduce myself to it than to showcase my latest purchase.

A mighty Yamaha R1. Not just any R1 though; this is a replica of (the also mighty) Valentino Rossi's World Championship-winning Yamaha M1, specifically the 2009 model.
Fate brought us together it seems. It was either buy a motorbike or pay off one of my credit cards.
So to ebay I went, and almost immediately happened across this jewel. I have always wanted an R1, ever since their introduction in 1998, but never imagined ever owning one as they were always outside my affordability.
Fortunately for yours truly, the fellow selling this one didn't realise exactly what he had and let it go for significantly less than it was worth.
In any event, it's now all mine.

All hail the Mighty R1.

sometimes love just aint enough

Hootie and The Blowfish - let her cry

Guns n' roses knocking on heaven's door (studio version)

Guns N' Roses - November Rain

IT'S AS PLAIN AS THE NOSE ON MY FACE

Why can't anyone else see it? I have several pieces in here dealing with dogs and kids and each piece says essentially the same thing.

I really don't know how to put it another way.

In this instance, a Border Collie, not typical of the breed of dog that bites, bit a 3 year old on its cheek, just below the eye reportedly. The child approached the dog while it was "eating a sausage". Mistake # 1
A vegetable knows not to get between a dog and its food. I can with my two; I'd expect most owners can with their respective dogs, and even then it's with a little caution.
But a stranger? Add to that the age of this particular stranger and the fact that at 3 years, ignorance replaces fear or caution - with quite often disastrous consequences.

In this case nearly the loss of an eye.

The dog undoubtedly will now be destroyed. This is no rabid pitbull I should add (owned by an equally rabid, or at least wannabe, meathead). This is a Border Collie. Classically intelligent (for a dog - which puts it head and shoulders above the average rugby league player), friendly, calm, the epitome of man's best friend. Now to be destroyed or at the very least labelled as a dangerous dog.
This innocent animal to pay the price for the incompetence of others. Nothing was reported concerning the whereabouts of the owner or the parents for that matter. The incident was just a quick soundbite at the behest of the station managers who are concerned with the truth and facts as much as the average lawyer. "Quick - another dog attack - get it out there; who cares how it happened, just report that a kid was bitten, that'll get the handwringers going"


And so the (becoming) old-age question remains: Where were the parents? Those who are ultimately responsible for the brat, who at 3 years of age should never be more than an arm's length from them. Mistake # 2

HMMM...LET'S NOT BE HASTY

It seems I may have been premature in my accusation of Brett Stewart (though I'll reserve my right to re-judge at a later stage if needs be).

His trial began today and the salient facts are:

The 17 year old had some redness around her vaginal area (Stewart stands accused of forcing his tongue into her mouth and digitally penetrating her). That is apparently all the physical evidence.

However, the accused's mouth and fingers were swabbed and no trace of the girl's DNA was found to be present. This in and of itself doesn't guarantee an acquittal obviously but that combined with the following certainly brings the veracity of the girl's story into doubt.

The girl has been receiving treatment for "psychosis" and "hallucinations". This is quite damning.

Maybe Mr Stewart isn't as typical a rugby league player as I thought (though he was on the piss all that day and was asked to leave the bar).

Nevertheless, innocent til proven guilty and all that so...

Watch this space.

THE MIGHTIEST OF ALL BLACKS?

Of course I'm referring to the New Zealand All Blacks, those all-conquering chaps of the international rugby world.

The first team in the history of the Tri-Nations tournament to do a clean sweep, that is to win every game they played.

Though they almost didn't make it; the Wallabies under Robbie Deans (a Kiwi, and the ex-coach of the mighty Crusaders Super 14 team) have finally under Deans tutelage been whipped into a team resembling something worthy of attempting to claim the next World Cup (next year whoop whoop!)
And to be fair, if it wasn't for the inaccurate boot of Matt Giteau, the Aussies would have beaten the Blacks.

That said, Henry (the Blacks coach) had made 5 changes to the team, and most noticeably, Dan Carter was out with an ankle injury. Carter is the kingpin of the side.
But, given that all the silverware is already in the closet (Bledisloe, Tri-Nations) Henry is obviously giving his men a run in order to build an unbeatable team for the 2011 World Cup.

Are they they best ever? A matter of opinion between men with more knowledge than I but one thing's for sure, they have steamrolled all before them so far.

Roll on the Cup. Godwilling, I'll be there for it.

HELLOOOO - NICE OF YOU TO KEEP UP!

There are several pieces in here dealing with alcohol abuse and I unapologetically make no excuse for my contempt towards those who sink piss like it's going out of fashion then behave like an animal towards some innocent bystander on the street.

I've made mention of how this disease has extended it's reach to the fairer sex (females have now overtaken males in thwe statistics appertaining to alcohol induced violence). It would seem in their quest to be regarded as equal to males (an absurd and asinine claim) these intoxicated females are turning on one another with a ferocity not seen since...well, ever actually. I was going to say since neanderthal times but even then the males did the vast majority of the fighting.

So, the authorities decided to mount an operation with the intent of cracking down on said alcohol-fuelled violence.

In one weekend, something like 1500 arrests were made and the police are left shaking their heads in stunned amazement.

So, blah, blah, blah followed as one would expect, with "experts" giving their considered opinions on the reasons why it has become such a problem (nobody asked me, though - or read this blog, where they would find the answer).

And today Andrew Scipione, the police chief was on talk radio and low and behold, the penny finally dropped (the very penny I first posted here years ago). "I open the paper", he says, "and I can't turn 3 pages without seeing full page spreads offering all kind of alcohol at bargain basement prices".

Yeah, dead on, Andy, welcome to the class - nice of you to join us!

MORE HEROES

Those of you who have had a passing interest in this blog thingy will remember the two Gregs. I of course speak of Greg Bird and Greg Inglis.

In case you don't I'll give you a quick reminder. Mr Bird was the "hero" who thought it would be heroic to smash a glass in his girlfriend's face, leaving her with significant lacerations, then proceeded to tell the police that his mate did it.
Ultimately this dopey girl refused to press charges, instead claiming she was trying to hurt herself and in the course of protecting her Bird somehow smashed the glass into her face. Victims of domestic violence the world over must be horrified at this woman's behaviour and that it has set their cause back years.

Greg Inglis, on the other hand, allegedly gave his piece of ass (for surely that's all these women must be to these "heroes") a tasty shiner. That's all I have ever heard about this case, which is disturbing in itself. Another beaten woman feeling like she was responsible perhaps?

Anyway, these two fine examples of mankind are back playing rugby league and being lauded like some sort of supermen.

So the moral of the story? In Australia, as long as you are a "sports star" it would seem you can get away with almost anything.

However, there may just be some justice. Brett Stewart, another idolized player was in court recently facing charges of indecently assaulting a 17 year old girl on his way home after a night on the piss. I certainly hope this girl sticks to her guns but judging by recent events, I wouldn't put money on it.

BOO HOO

Bill Crews is a 26 year old policeman - or rather, he was. The unfortunate fellow got shot it the head during a drug raid in Towelhead-land just south west of Sydney city.

Immediately it was assumed that one of said Towelheads, or should I say, alleged drug possession/dealing Towelheads was responsible.

And just as immediately talkback radio, television et al jumped at the chance to voice horror and outrage (woe is me, waste of a young officer's life, how dare they shoot at a police officer?...and here I'll digress for a moment. Police officers, and soldiers too in fact, have a weapon - several weapons in fact. And they're trained to use them, that is to say, the use of deadly force to protect or apprehend. I don't enjoy such security, so they are charged with its provision. I ask you, exactly whom else should be shot at? Me? You?).

And boy, did they milk it. A newspaper editor was stood down over daring to suggest that the death would shift more copy. Remember TV, radio, and the very medium in question, newspapers were all running this story as a headline. Just bear that in mind.

Cut to several days after the shooting, post post mortem as it were. It transpires that the bullet that killed poor Bill (that actually struck him in the neck, not the head as earlier reported - not that it matters a whole lot...) came from none other than a senior constable (a senior constable in the keystone cops it seems). The family of Bill have since told this SC that they don't hold him responsible. How nice. Apparently the SC went to the same target practice school as the bunch of cretins who took ten shots to bring down a 14 year old a few years back (see earlier post).

So there y'go. More sterling work from the Boys in Blue. Australia's finest.

***************************

Another example has also occurred lately; the case of a soldier killed during a firefight in Afghanistan, in which a claimed 30-odd insurgents were killed. More hand-wringing and woe is me (regarding the dead soldier - not the Taliban insurgents obviously). As alluded to above, but more so, if anyone is trained in the use of weapons it's a professional soldier; likewise said soldier is expected to use his weapon to kill the enemy.
Furthermore, this isn't World War One or Two. Conscription no longer exists in the western world. No-one held a gun to this fellows head. He joined the army of his own accord. Why, only he knows but one thing's for sure, once that first round whizzed past his head, he had (as defined in the ROE - rules of engagement) full authorization to return fire with the sole intent of killing the enemy - an enemy with a family, a mother, father, sisters and brothers perhaps.
If he was too slow/hadn't enough cover or was simply a poor shot then that's just bad luck. It's war. It isn't pretty. And whilst I empathize with his immediate family and friends over their loss of a loved one, I think we need to remember that in life, in certain occupations, the risk of death and/or serious injury is clear and present.



Prior to this piece, Washington State executed a rapist/torturor/murderer by lethal injection. So it would seem that human life isn't actually sacrosanct when it suits us. How wonderfully civilized, yes?

Hazel O' Connor "Will you"

Peter Gabriel & Kate Bush -Don't Give Up

Sarah Mclachlan - In The Arms Of The Angel

HEY "ANONYMOUS"

FUCK OFF...

IF YOU'RE SELLING THOSE PUPPIES, I'LL HAVE THE ONE WITH THE PINK NOSE.

I haven't had a lot to say of late but man, I have to get this down. This is priceless.

I'm out walking the Boys, as I do every night and as I approach the top of the hill where lies a junction (intersection to Yanks and Aussies) I hear the noise typically associated with people having a good time. In other words, drunk. Drunks concern me. Drunks can be erratic and unpredictable.
So my ears pricked up so to speak (read on...) and I prepared to call the Boys to me lest they aggravate the inebriated.
I needed have worried as it becomes clear that the noisemakers were 4 girls in their 20s I'd guess. Girls go all gooey over the Boys so I relaxed a bit.
Now here's were it gets surreal:

Two of these young ladies were topless; strolling down the middle of the road drunk as you like and making a fair racket.

Then I hear, "There's someone coming" and the girl on the left of the pack covers her chest with her top - doesn't put it on - just covers. But the other exhibitionist has no such shame and proudly stands there calling at me with her hands in the air displaying her...wares, lets call it (or should that be "them"). And asking me, "Do you think these are sexy?" (Oh man, as I say, priceless hoho).
So me being the gentleman I am, keep my distance and continue to walk, not wanting to do what a man would do when faced with a naked woman in the street, and stare lasciviously. (I had to look, though - it's rude to ignore people).

Enter the Boys in this little tale. They decide to sod of down this small walkway after God knows what, leaving me standing there with this girl loudly asking me these questions concerning the sexiness of her shape.
So I must reply, in between Shouts of "Boys!" I return with noncommittal remarks like, "not bad" and "yeah it's alright". And, "you've scared my dogs off". All said in good humour. (Christ, what else could I say?).

Surreal, huh?

But wait, there's more:

This chick then bends over and drops her (shorts or miniskirt - can't remember, I was understandably distracted...) and stands up completely buck naked but for a pair of briefs (fairly unflattering ones I might add - I neglected to mention that to the girl...).
And begins to, well, "jiggle" would describe what happened next.
Her friends, including the other topless one now sitting on the kerb holding her top to her chest and feeling I would imagine, a little sheepish, were attempting to curtail their friend's demonstration.

Eventually the Boys returned and I carried on my merry, yet mildly astonished way.

This is where I live.

LET'S SEE YOUR BASTARD CAT DO THAT!!!!

One Alsatian dog. It's master.


Heard on the radio; details unknown as far as where - was listening to the heroics.
But in essence:

Jim, I think that was his name, and his trusty Alsatian, name not given, were in each others' company when Jim collapsed, suffering a heart attack.

...need a name for the dog, answers on a postcard. For now we'll call it Spike.

Upon witnessing his master's collapse Spike sprang onto Jim's chest and proceeded to make a commotion, in order to keep Jim conscious.
Spike then ran outside and by indulging in more of that commotion stuff, attracted the attention of someone, a passer-by presumably, and led him into the house to where Jim lay, all but dead.
Jim's now doing well, having survived the near death experience. One would presume Spike is still by his side.

'Tis a beautiful story and only the darkest heart would fail to be warmed after hearing it.

THE fundamental difference between dog and cat.

Some would cite dogs as easily browbeaten, the eternal pleasers, insinuating that this was an undesireable trait. I would counter - this animal was not beaten, this was...a dog and his master, his companion, his friend.
And seeing his friend in need, leapt into action. First by trying to keep the man cognizant, then by going for help.

Cats would probably see the chest as a nice place to sit, that's if they even noticed, and if so, that's after coming out from behind the sofa after scarpering in cowardly fright when Jim hit the floor.

I remind you that I would still never do any animal, cats included, any intentional harm, and in fact would, and have leapt to their defence as Spike did for Jim.
However, cats are the epitome of narc

Michael Crawford-- The Music of the Night (Extended)

The Music of the Night -Michael Crawford and Sarah Brightman