Headless Hollow

We keep you alive to serve this ship. So row well, and live.

Search


Archives

Categories

Boardgame Design (5)
Boardgames (29)
Books (2)
Cats (4)
Computer games (10)
Design (13)
Films (49)
Grumpy rants (4)
Literature (1)
Music (8)
Opinions (30)
Site news (16)
Stuff (35)
Tech (5)
Theatre (2)
Travel (1)
Weird (2)
World (2)

Headless Hollow posts, categorised for your convenience and enjoyment. On this page you’ll find all the posts vaguely related to Opinions.

Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Starmucks

Starbucks announced today that they were closing 71 outlets in Australia, in part due to Australia’s “sophisticated coffee culture” (ie, we can actually tell the difference between crap coffee and good coffee).

It’s times like these that put my faith back in Australians. It broke my heart to see the cloying corporate culture of Starbucks start to spring up in Sydney. Now if we can only get rid of the bloody Gloria Jean chain, a Starbucks wanna-be run by the Hillsong evangelical church, we can get back to enjoying good coffee in cafes run by locals.

Sunday, June 15, 2008

Land of the Free

Update: Excuse me while I wipe the egg off my face—I’ve since been informed that this is not in fact an American government conspiracy, but a setting in Microsoft Outlook my father must have hit by accident. I don’t know if I’m more embarrassed that I jumped to a conspiracy theory conclusion (though let’s face it, call it a terrorist surveillance program and you can do whatever you want), or admitting my father uses Outlook!

My father, who is Australian, has lived in the States for more than 20 years, and has gone from being pro-American in most things to disgusted with the way the country has been run into the ground by Bush and his minions. Here’s a little example of how the Land of the Free treats its citizens these days.

He recently sent an email to my brother and I which contained this paragraph:

“… of course we have this stupid election process to elect a president and that has gone on for about 10 months and has still months to go! I can’t believe how any intelligent country can have such process that is so long it gets boring and and costs millions and millions—Hillary Clinton is already 20 million in debt. Everyone I speak to agrees the process in Oz makes so much more common sense.”

He was checking his ‘Sent’ folder to make sure the email had gone through when he noticed a line written in red at the top of his message that he hadn’t put there. It read:

“This message is being watched.”

I kid you not.

Wednesday, May 7, 2008

Nothing’s changed I suspect

A friend and I were discussing the rings that creatives have to jump through when quoting to corporate clients, when he came up with this analogy I just had to repeat here:

I’m visualising Pope Julius II saying to Michelangelo:
“We want you to paint the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel for us, but we want a fixed-price quote showing your estimate of the level of complexity, scope of work and an allowance for us screwing with your design at any time. Oh, and by the way, if your price doesn’t match our idea of what it’s worth we’ll refuse to pay at all and if you make any trouble we’ll denounce you to the Inquisition and have you burnt at the stake as a heretic. Now go and get your paints, wonderboy.”

Monday, February 25, 2008

Get yer hair cut!

For the last few years I’ve been regularly getting my hair cut at a tiny barber shop on King Street in Newtown. There’s a lot of things I like about this little place. There are only three chairs, and just enough room to squeeze behind them, and you don’t come here for anything fancy in the haircutting department. Still, it’s best to come on a weekday as there’s usually a queue milling about on the pavement on the weekends.

I get an ‘extra zero’, which is about as short as you can get without having your head shaved with a razor. (Why extra zero? Wasn’t just zero enough?) I like the fact that I’ve been going for about three years, and none of the guys there have asked me my name, or told me theirs. They’ll always ask “how are you?” when you come in, and give you a friendly goodbye when you leave, when I always say “thanks guys, see you next time”. If you feel like having a chat that’s fine, you can talk about the weather or what you did on the weekend or how busy work is at the moment; but if you feel like sitting there and not saying a word that’s just fine too.

Not only do I get my extra zero cut, but they always use a cut-throat razor to go around the ears and the back of the neck afterwards, and sometimes I even get a bit of a head rub. But it’s always a fast, professional, no-nonsense operation, and my hair is cut and I’m out the door, feeling freshly shorn again, in no time flat.

They’ve never tried to get to know me, or give me a little credit card to join their ‘barber club’ so I can get a dollar off after ten cuts, or sent me an email newsletter, or had a ten percent off day. I just go there, get my haircut properly, and pay them $10. I will therefore continue to go there, get my haircut, and pay them $10 (hell, they can even put it up to $12 eventually, though just giving them a ten buck bill is easier), every few weeks until the proverbial cows come home. Probably literally as I will have moved to the country by then.

Personally I think modern marketing gurus could learn a thing or two from this little barber shop.

Thursday, October 25, 2007

Massive Hypocrisy 101

I just had to share this quote from today’s Sydney Morning Herald from the Cathoic Archbishop and all-round orthodox conservative busybody George Pell, ‘prominent religious sceptic of climate change’, also recently quoted as saying “Jesus had nothing to say on global warming”.

“My task as a Christian leader is to engage with reality, to contribute to debate on important issues, to open people’s minds, and to point out when the emperor is wearing few or no clothes.

“Radical environmentalists are more than up to the task of moralising their own agenda and imposing it on people through fear. They don’t need church leaders to help them with this, although it is a very effective way of further muting Christian witness. Church leaders in particular should be allergic to nonsense.”

Engage with reality. Open people’s minds. Allergic to nonsense. Yep. Uh-huh. Riiiight.

Monday, October 22, 2007

It’s a hard life

JacksMy girl and I visited the Hyde Park Barracks the other day and took in some excellent exhibitions about the harsh life of convicts aboard prison hulks and the early female immigrants to Australia.

I feel a small personal attachment to the restored Barracks building as I was one of the 250 or so volunteers back in 1980/81 that spent time sifting through the dust and dirt that had been vacuumed up from between the floorboards. I vaguely remember that a friend discovered an old matchbox, but I don’t think I found anything. I did get a chance to scramble up into the pidgeon-infested clocktower though.

Today, the barracks houses exhibitions about the building and its many uses over the years, and early Sydmey in general, and its spacious courtyard is also the venue for various Sydney Festival events—bands, temporary clubs, etc. There’s also a great little restaurant where we had lunch in the sun, eating salad and vegetable tempura and listening to the crows in the nearby trees.

As I looked over the scattered ephemera of people’s lives dredged up from the sea where rotting prison hulks lie, or picked out from rat’s nests between the floorboards, I couldn’t help but reflect on what a lucky bastard I am. A couple of centuries ago I probably would have experienced the days of my (short) life in one of two ways—unremitting tedium or relentless drudgery. Considering the history of at least one side of my family, probably the latter (there’s at least one horse thief and axe murderer in there). Throughout the small span of years that human beings have occupied this planet, most people have had a pretty rough time of it. They certainly have had very little choice, counting themselves extremely lucky indeed to simply be able to earn enough to put food in their mouth, or have a place to sleep at night.

Whether a domestic servant, a convict working off his fourteen years for stealing a hat, a clerk hunched over paperwork in a stuffy office, an immigrant coming to a new country in search of a life—millions have lived a life where only rarely one could snatch just a few moments of happiness here and there.

After viewing the exhibitions I sat outside in the sun, was served a high quality meal, and sipped a cold beer in a chilled glass. I live in my own home that I can’t be thrown out of (as long as I keep paying the mortgage of course) with the woman I love, and get to do something everyday that is creative and remarkably easy in contrast with most jobs throughout history. I am, and so is just about everybody I know, obscenely privileged in contrast with all of those souls that came before.

It really puts things into perspective.

Image: Jacks (detail) Frank Meadow Sutcliffe, c1880

Tuesday, February 27, 2007

Beep beep

Whose bloody stupid idea was it to make cars go beep beep when they’re automatically locked? When you work in a street which is near a shopping centre and people are parking in it all day, this seemingly innocuous sound begins to take on the quality of Chinese water torture. Also, people leave their cars at 3am sometimes, outside houses with sleeping people in them. Didn’t this cross the tiny minds of the perpetrators of this astounding design flaw? Nope, they were too busy devising yet another way for their inventions to disturb the peace. “Engine noise? Check. Fumes? Check. Destroy ozone layer? Check. Annoying little beep beep sound when you lock it? Check! Righto, now for some more refinements to my other masterpiece, the leaf blower …”

Oh, why stop now:

Other Things That Shit Me As I Work From Home
- old men walking by hawking up huge gobs and spitting on the pavement
- council workers parking their trucks just outside and leaving the engine on while they eat lunch
- the same people who feel the need to always shout at each other from one end of the street to the other instead of getting a bit closer to one another
- groups of old women walking by all talking at the same time at about 2000 decibels
- the fact that someone, somewhere in the street is always operating a large power tool, if not a jackhammer
- the house three doors down that has been renovated and painted and now looks like something out of Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, ruining the character of the row of houses (I mean - blue walls with grey tiles? Argh!)
- people who leave shopping trolleys from the shopping centre (around the corner) in our residential street - not to mention in great numbers in the park nearby
- the screaming kids next door (of course)
- the damn barking dog a few doors down (of course)
- people who tie their dog up outside the shopping centre, resulting in said dog barking non-stop for an hour
- anyone who goes to the shopping centre and parks in this street instead of the huge shopping centre carpark (see shopping trolleys, above)
- people who eat their crap McDonalds food (from the shopping centre) and then leave all the wrappers in the grassy area at the end of the street
- going to the shopping centre and seeing hugely overweight parents feeding their hugely overweight children McDonalds and Kentucky Fried Chicken at bizarre hours like 9am and 4.30pm
- I’m sure there are more

Thursday, February 8, 2007

Corporate greed

Cross City RipoffRegular readers may recall that back in March of last year I posted the transcript of a letter I sent to CrossCity Motorway Pty Ltd with the toll fare and fine I was forced to pay after accidently stumbling through their badly signposted bloody cross city motorway.

Well, just a couple of little updates on that one—Fire sale as tunnel price plummets and Tunnel owes taxpayers, too.

The traffic flow was a third of the estimates. The tunnel is now worth a third of what it cost to build. Banks and investors are hundreds of millions out of pocket. Unpaid phone and electricity bills. Even staff are owed holiday pay.

It never ceases to amaze me that banks and corporate organisations will spend hundreds of millions on a complete fuck-up which could have been completely avoided if they’d asked the opinion of few people in the street. We didn’t want existing roads changed to funnel cars into their tunnel, and we didn’t want to pay a fortune for the privilege of using it. I won’t use a toll road that forces me to buy an automatic electronic payment system (extrapolate how that will ultimately be abused). Of course, the real fat cats responsible won’t be touched—as usual, it will be the taxpayers who suffer for their greed.

I’m sick of having to pay extra for basics that should be covered by our taxes. Hopefully this debacle will bring up short the greedy bastards who think building roads and tunnels is a licence to print money. The people of Sydney have spoken!

Wednesday, January 31, 2007

The Code to the Kingdom of Stupid

CodeI received this little beauty in my mailbox today. I immediately rang the Reverend over at Tetherd Cow to share the good news, and in the brief pauses between my indignant splutterings he suggested I blog it. Or if you don’t want to, he went on, send it to me and I’ll blog it. Hold on, he said triumphantly, let’s both blog it!

Calm in the knowledge that his finally honed sense of the ridiculous would be the perfect foil to my impotent outpouring of rage at the stupidity of mankind, I agreed to a world first: a simultaneous posting by Headless Hollow and Tetherd Cow on the same subject!

Let’s have a good look at this gem, shall we. From a design point of view, we have here a classic example of jumping on the bandwagon long after the bandwagon has left town. Note the pseudo-Da Vinci Code stylings. Let’s sit in on the design meeting …

Client: “I was thinking we should make it look like that Da Vinci code movie, because those sinners out there are all obsessed by that stuff, and if we do it in the same style, we might actually trick them into believing that it has something to do with the Da Vinci code and get them to read it before they realise that it’s actually a Christian flyer, ‘cause then we’ll actually be fooling them because we’ve subverted the style and are using it for our own worthy cause and we’re therefore not only being culturally relevant but cleverly twisting around the whole sinful Da Vinci concept into a pure and Christian one!”

Designer: “OK. I’ve got this clip art picture of a Chinese dragon I can use.”

But wait, no sub-Christian spin-off church flyer is complete without those two classics—the clean WASP mother with her clean WASP baby, pointing off to the wonderful new horizon just ahead (“we’ve got the Code—and money—and you don’t!”), and the troubled WASP teenager, her face partly in shadow, wondering “what’s it all about? Should I let Bobby feel me up, or will I burn in hellfire for all eternity if he touches me there?”

Now, about this Code … sorry the Amazing Code to Real Hope, Spiritual Peace & Happiness®. Shit! I’m not safe! I don’t Know the Code! Quick, tell me! All I can say is, lucky for me it’s all Free!

Look, if you’re Christian, and you feel you really must bother other people with unsolicited mailings, at least be upfront about it goddammit! Don’t treat me like a complete frackin’ idiot! The truly horrifying thing is, there are no doubt people out there who will be fooled by this transparent marketing junk into actually giving away their contact details. Receiving the postcard in their mailbox, their thought patterns go like this …

Hmm, something to do with the Da Vinci Code, great … everyone’s into that … though I only got three chapters in when I was on the beach last Christmas, but the movie’s got Tom Hanks in it, so it must be ‘serious’ … wait— True Happiness? I could do with some of that! The kids are screaming and my husband is having an affair and my life is meaningless and empty and Dr Phil just doesn’t seem to be giving me all the answers anymore … and it sounds easy, I don’t actually have to question anything or put any effort in, I just need to be told The Code and I’ll finally find the answer to all the confusing non-black-and-white situations that life keeps throwing at me every day … wow, I’m sending this in! This is really it this time!

Two weeks later in the newsagent … Shame that Code thing didn’t work … hmmm, what’s this paperback? ‘Six Easy Steps to Real Hope, Spiritual Peace & Happiness’—wow! I’m buying this! This is it! This is really it this time!

Friday, November 3, 2006

Possessed by an Imagination

Back when I was a little tacker, at about the age of twelve, I discovered Dungeons and Dragons. For me, like many others of my generation, the game was to make a big impact on my life. It sucked up many, many hours, both with friends—sharing adventures in imaginary worlds—and alone—designing worlds and underworlds, painting figures and preparing for the next game. I was always the ‘Dungeon Master’, or game referee, which meant I did a lot of work to prepare the games we played and make the whole game experience as smooth and enjoyable for everyone as possible. In contrast, the players pretty much just had to show up with their characters on a piece of paper (a ‘character sheet’ that I’d lovingly designed) and play.

DM GuideAs D&D became more popular in the early-80s it started to cop some flack from hysterical fringe groups, due to a few isolated and unfortunate incidents involving obviously unhinged teens taking the game a bit too seriously. Right wing Christians, in particular, attacked the game for its inclusion of demons and devils, and accused it of being a ‘thin end of the wedge’ for Satanic groups. Sniffing a good story, the media latched onto these accusations and ran sensationalist stories about this strange new obsession that was gobbling up the minds of innocent teenagers. I remember in particular one story by the American Sixty Minutes show that was run here in Australia, that focused on a teen homicide supposedly inspired by D&D. In the story, the camera zoomed dramatically into artwork from the game books, focusing on monsters and demons and juxtaposing them with a lurid reconstruction of the crime. Enough to send any parent running terrified into their teen’s room to grab those D&D books and chuck them on the fire.

The story so incensed my early-teen self that I wrote the program a carefully composed letter berating them for their sensationism and extolling the virtues of playing D&D and similar games: what about the fact, I asked, that players were being creative, developing their imaginations, learning skills (I still credit those early days with my later interest in graphic design, at which I now I make a living), socialising etc. Why were the actions of a couple of crazy people overshadowing the millions of happy, well-adjusted gamers?

Well, more than twenty-five years have passed and, surprise surprise, millions of teens didn’t grow up to be Satan-worshipping nutjobs. In fact, they mostly grew up to be highly intelligent and often unusually creative adults, and some of them, along with whole new generations, still play role-playing games. Of course, the fringe loonies still rail against the dangers of D&D. Here’s a quote from one of their websites: “Literally millions of young people are unknowingly participating in genuine occult practices and opening the doors for demons to enter their bodies through this seemingly innocent game.” Uh huh … riiiiight.

PentacleSo what reminded me of this kind of intolerance? The upcoming game BattleLore by Days of Wonder has a terrain piece called a ‘Magic Pentacle’ that features a pentacle symbol. To my amazement, some people on public forums have expressed concern that the use of such a symbol will offend some Christian sensibilities and possibly lead to some sort of ‘backlash’ for the company; or that it was a bad marketing decision to include such a symbol.

Leaving aside for the moment that the pentacle is a symbol that goes back to ancient times and was only co-opted by occult groups in the last century; or that Days of Wonder publishes in several countries, not just America, where the vast majority of this kind of criticism comes. Instead I just have to shake my head in slack-jawed amazement at the kind of people who go through life with beliefs so intolerant, with world-views so narrow, with ignorance so complete, as to be offended or angered by the use of a pentacle symbol in a fantasy boardgame.

Save us from the small- and narrow-minded, those who strive to restrict the boundless possibilities of the imagination to the claustrophobic confines of the religious fanatic. Tonight my girl and I sat down and watched The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring again together. I still had to hold back tears. Imagine if Tolkien had been forced to take out the balrog because it was too much like a demon, or Sauron himself because he offended right-wing conservative Christians with his similarities to the Devil. Let’s get rid of those witches in Grimm’s Fairy Tales shall we? Look, while we’re at it, Edgar Allan Poe wrote some occult stories … imagine how grey the world would be if we were not allowed to play imaginative games, or read stories or see films, until they’d been approved by some self-appointed, self-righteous body who had decided they had the right to determine what was a threat to our morality? There are always those who want to stifle creativity, sanitise stories, censor art. What a terrible shame their imaginations have dried up from disuse.

Anyway, all that aside … repeat after me people: it’s just a game.

Sunday, June 4, 2006

Hell is other people?

PeopleI’ve been thinking about other people lately. Mostly because my neighbour is proving to be a dickhead, and it has reminded me of the times I’ve come up against other dickheads in my life. I’ve also come to the frightening conclusion that there are a hugely disproportionate number of dickheads out there.

When you’re a child, you live in a safe little family cocoon, insulated against the frustrations and horrors of the outside world. Your main concern is whether you’ll get to stay up past 8.30 at night, or whether you can complain just enough to get that bag of lollies, but not too much so it results in really pissing mum off. You get taught a set of rules, not only about how to behave at home with your family, but how to behave in the outside world with other people. And you learn—well, some people learn—the fine art of self-awareness and self-control. You learn to examine your own actions, and weigh them against your ideas of right and wrong. To do the right thing.

But as you get older, you start to realise that some people—a lot of people—somehow missed out on learning a lot of these rules.

Some of them are capable of the one thing I really fear, the mindless rage you cannot reason with. Twice in my life—and I’m not counting the occasional schoolyard bully—I’ve come up against it. Once, I was in a car that ran over a dog. The dog wasn’t on a leash and ran at full speed in front of the car; there was no way we could have avoided the collision. Of course we stopped, but the dog owner (a local drug dealer of no fixed address, we later discovered) completely freaked out, with the result that the next thing I knew I woke up in hospital with concussion. I still can’t remember exactly what happened.

Another time, in England, I drove out into a road in the countryside and, unbeknowst to me, in front of a fast driving car that had just come round a corner. The driver began swerving all over the road, obviously gripped by road rage. It looked to me that he was just trying to dangerously overtake, so when he did so, I gave him the finger. That was a mistake. The driver and passenger got so angry that the passenger was opening his door as they drove at high speed ahead of me, eventually cutting me off and forcing me and the car behind me to brake suddenly. They then got out of the car, ripped open my door and started pummelling me with blows.

You can’t reason with people like this. They could kill you—your life could end—because of their moment of stupid, unthinking rage. It happens all the time, all over the world. And in a thousand tiny ways, every day, people do stupid things because they have no manners, or don’t think about others, or allow the anger that is bottled up inside, possibly because of some totally unrelated frustration with their life, to explode violently.

We gather a group of like-minded, good people around us to protect us from the world. People who are kind. Friends and family. Sometimes it seems like we’re outnumbered by the stupid, the ignorant, the rude, the angry, the self-righteous, the blinkered, the un-self-aware.

There’s no way of changing this state of affairs, and sometimes I get angry and do stupid things too; but I also try to do little things to help. Smile at people behind counters. Always indicate when I’m driving. Walk quietly in my house at night. Make sure I’m not jumping ahead of someone in the queue. Warn the neighbours when I’m having a party. Park so I’m leaving enough space for the next car. Don’t let my ego dominate others. When I’m accused of doing something wrong, try to put myself in their shoes. Admit when I’m wrong.

We all have to think about other people, people.

Thursday, May 11, 2006

Don’t strain yourself

They’re resurfacing a laneway near my house. I just walked past and counted fourteen Council workers. One of the men was on a machine; the other thirteen were standing around talking, smoking, drinking Coke and talking on mobiles.

Wednesday, March 8, 2006

To CrossCity Motorway Pty Ltd, Sydney

Cross City RipoffDear Sir/Madam,

Please find enclosed my payment for $13.56, being the toll amount of $3.56 and your additional administration charge of $10.00.

Allow me to suggest you enjoy this payment, as it will be the last time I use the Cross City Tunnel, which I will be making a point of avoiding in future. I used it on this occasion solely because it was so badly signposted by your company on the Eastern side that I stumbled into it by mistake.

Personally, I refuse to get an Electronic Tag account purely because of the the fact that your company gives me no choice not to, and I refuse to submit to the blatant extortion, Government inefficiency and corporate greed that I believe the Tunnel stands for.

I hope you find this frank and honest customer feedback informative.

Yours sincerely,
etc etc

Friday, February 3, 2006

The owner needs a licence too

I may ruffle some feathers here, but I think it is far too easy these days for people to own a dog. There seems to be no restrictions on the kind of person who can walk into a shop and buy one. A potential dog owner should have to undergo a series of rigorous checks.

Let me explain. I live in a pretty crowded inner city area, where houses butt up against each other, or are divided into terraces, and most have pretty small yards. I’m continually amazed at the number of dogs in the area, and even more amazed about how unhappy many of them are. Since I work from home, I hear them barking all day, cooped up in tiny yards, when their owners are at work. Sometimes there’s so many going at once I feel like I’ve been suddenly transported to a corner of Doggy Hell.

There’s a little white lapdog a few houses up that I have even gone to check on, since his barking has been driving me nuts. When I found the house and looked over the back fence, I saw him sitting up against the back glass door of the house, where he yaps at his missing owners all day. I left a polite note in their postbox informing them that their dog seemed very unhappy while they are away, but nothing’s changed.

Next door, there’s an old guy whose tiny square of outdoor space faces our tiny square of outdoor space—but in his, a Jack Russell—a dog specially bred to run and work, mind you—is trapped. In seven months I have never seen this dog taken for a walk, and not only does it bark, but recently it has begun crying and whimpering for hours and hours at a time. This disturbing sound woke me up at 4.15am this morning.

Today I finally got the courage up to talk to its owner (who I might add seems imprisoned himself—he listens to talk-back radio and watches TV all day every day, though I’ve seen him walking about the neighbourhood). He confirmed that it never gets to go for a walk, but that ‘he’s an active little guy’. I pleaded as politely as I could for him to take the dog for a walk, noting he really should do so once a day. He looked at me somewhat nonplussed, as though I was telling him what colour shirts he should wear from now on.

My point is, when you get a dog, no one comes to check how big your yard is, whether you will walk the dog every day, whether it will get enough attention and affection—damn it, whether you will be considerate of your neighbours—nothing. You just slap your money down, register it, and take it home to whatever fate awaits the poor powerless animal.

Doesn’t seem fair. Not on the dog, and not on the non-dog-owning neighbours who have to put up with its yapping all day.

All right, I fully expect a barrage from dog owners here. Go for it.

Thursday, December 1, 2005

Hours

As I write this, Nguyen Tuong Van has about eight and a half hours left to live. I’m about to go to bed. Tomorrow I’ll wake up and have a normal day. I might not do anything special at all, but Nguyen would give anything—anything—to have another normal day just like that.

Here’s what I think. I think killing is wrong, and that no one has the right to take the life of another, for any reason. Nguyen was twenty-two when he made the dumbest decision of his life. Twenty-two. How smart were you when you were twenty-two? I’m not saying he didn’t make a stupid mistake, or even that he didn’t realise the consequences of what he was doing. But all of us are entitled to forgiveness, a chance to make amends. A second chance. Even the worst of us. Because even the worst of us can learn, and perhaps even become a better person—even become one of the best of us.

No one has the right to take a human life. No one.

Amnesty International.

Wednesday, November 2, 2005

Keeping score

I don’t know about you, but I’m occasionally struck by a sense of frustration that I haven’t really achieved anything yet. Since I was in my teens I’ve developed a bad habit of occasionally comparing my age to that of people I admire; I see things like the new King Kong and realise it was created by someone just a few years older than me; I watch a documentary of Michelangelo and discover he painted the Sistine Chapel ceiling when he was thirty-seven … well, I could go on and on.

Of course, in my late teens and early twenties I could always convince myself that I had plenty of time to paint a Sistine Chapel of my own, but as the big four-oh looms it’s getting a bit trickier to maintain that deception. Have you ever noticed how so many famous creative people did their best work in their twenties and thirties?

Don’t get me wrong, I’m proud of what I’ve achieved as a graphic designer, and I don’t have self-esteem problems as a rule. I can’t imagine doing anything else for a living, and eleven years working for myself is something to be proud of. But I sometimes ask myself if I’m ever going to create something really memorable—something that impacts culture, or inspires people … even changes their lives. And as I get older, the possibility that I will seems to get smaller.

Thursday, June 30, 2005

Casual theft

I have a suspicion I left my car open last night, because this morning some bastard(s) had seized on my momentary lapse of vigilance by breaking into it, thankfully without damage, and stealing a wallet with about twenty CDs in it. We heard a group of people in the early hours outside our house—pissed and walking down a side street at four in the morning on a Thursday—so I suspect it was them. Apart from the gob-smacking shittiness of stealing in general—what, were they checking every car as they walked home?—I am most amazed by the fact they took the time to make some musical choices. Or perhaps it was because the wallet full of CDs was such a convenient pocket size, because they left behind four other CDs in cases—The Doves, Mikelangelo and the Black Sea Gentlemen, Tori Amos and Coldplay.

Lessons from this experience? 1. Never leave CDs in car. 2. iTune all my CDs (thankfully I have most of them in digital form). 3. Set up things with an iPod so I never have to use CDs again and 4. Never forget to lock my car (it must have been the first time in twenty years dammit). I completely fail to understand how the mind works of the person who is this morning playing my CDs, probably unburdened by the smallest twinge of conscience. It’s times like this I really hope that the whole karma thing works.

Tuesday, June 14, 2005

Why I will never buy Sony products again

I have had it with Sony equipment. Not only do I hate how this multinational juggernaut is taking over the music industry and sticking their products into the film clips made by their artists, but they’re products are crap.

Why the rant? I own two expensive Sony cameras— the DCR-TRV20 digital Handycam and the DSC-F707 digital still camera. They are four and three years old, respectively. Apparently, despite the amount of money they cost me ($2,000 for the Handycam and over $1500 for the still camera), they are now long past their Planned Obsolescence date, because I am starting to have continual problems with both of them. Of course, past the warranty, Sony don’t want to know you, so you are forced to go to one of the very few registered repair shops with your problem; people who also could not care less, since they have a steady revenue stream from schmucks like me. So far I’ve spent $330 having the still camera repaired and over $330 on the video camera. I’ve also had to wait weeks and be treated like an inconvenience during the process. Plus the still camera apparently has one of those ‘intermittent problems’ that crop up magically when I’m using the camera and not when it is being checked for repairs.

I don’t think I’m being out of line in asking for two cameras costing a total of over $3,500 to last more than a few years, though I’m sure Sony considers me part of the throwaway generation that should have long since upgraded to the latest, grooviest Sony product. I mean, some annoying American rap star has it, so I should too, right?

Saturday, May 28, 2005

Greedy bastards

I’ve spent the last twenty years of my life paying rent to landlords—and the last eight or so for both a place to live and a studio in which to work. And once again, I’ve been forced to get on the rental house search merry-go-round. I’ve spent a lot of depressing Saturdays looking at overpriced slums, but this morning has the distinction of being the most depressing of them all.

Sydney is a city obsessed with property and obsessed with money. But even I was surprised at the absolute shitboxes some people are attempting to rent at the moment, and the outrageous amounts of money they are asking for them. For a start, prices seem to have jumped 20% in the last nine months. What most amazes me however, is the complete lack of effort these landlords put in to make a house liveable before trying to get tenants. Houses smell, have plaster flaking from the walls, have shoddy built-ins made of unpainted chipboard and interior windows covered with brown paper. And this crap is described as ‘charming’. I saw a tiny passage which would hardly fit a chair described as a ‘study’. I’ve seen bathrooms that you wouldn’t let a dog use. There was a time that some attempt to make a place liveable was necessary to rent it; that time seems to have gone.

Sydney is trapped between obscenely high prices and the lack of a long-term rental culture. And for a couple trying to find a decent house to live in and unwilling to spend the ridiculously huge sums of money needed to buy a place, it’s a getting to be a hard place to live.

Update: Well, that weekend was the proverbial straw; it’s time to give landlords the finger and buy our own place. We’ve already seen the mortagage broker … and it’s not quite as scary as I’d imagined. Now, in defiance of the Sydney zeitgeist, I’ll try not to mention property again.

Tuesday, May 24, 2005

Back to Latin

I recently did business with someone on eBay, and in response to a query of mine I received this email reply:

hi peter, it may b coz u put it thru ova tha w/e it may take 24hrs 2 process from the next working day. i definetely wil let uno wen it comes thru. thx mel

I’m all for saving a little time when you’re in a hurry, but what’s going on here? When I sent this to a friend of mine who is equally annoyed with the demise of the English language in these times of email and SMS, and he had this to say:

Christ! Is there any genuine saving of time in the typing of this? There’s certainly a sensible diminution of comprehension in the reader!

My brain hurts… just look at this stuff:

‘ova’ hmmm, huge saving of ONE letter there
‘wil’ ditto
‘wen’ I’m seeing a pattern here

There’s not even any consistency, as we find ourselves lurching from “b coz u put it thru ova the w/e” to almost a phrase of complete words: “process from the next working day”. It’s like a beam of sunlight shining through dark and murky clouds.

As for ‘tha’: this person needs to be tied over a barrel and whipped with wet birch branches until they can show evidence of being able to spell. Mind you, with ‘eBay’ spelt that way, it’s no surprise these people are confused.

Bring back compulsory Latin I say.

” … whipped with wet birch branches …” Now that’s English!

Wednesday, April 20, 2005

Meet the new Pope, same as the old Pope

Let me see … European? Check. Doddering old man? Check. Thinks gay people have a ‘condition’ (euphemism for they’ll burn in Hell everlasting)? Check. Would see women as priests over his dead body? Check. Wrote to priests in the US telling them not to vote for the Catholic John Kerry because of his stand on abortion? Check. Rejects the marriage of priests? Check. Rejects all other forms of religion as deficient (even other Christian ones)? Check.

Hmmm … welcome to a new era of tolerance, humility, Christian values—oh, and and millions more dying in Africa because Catholic priests teach condoms cause AIDS, rampant overpopulation in Latin America due to lack of birth control, no freedom of choice for women, the covering up of child abuse … Chosen by God? Chosen by a pack of conservative old men desperately hanging onto their power more likely. Wake up world!

Sunday, January 30, 2005

Things I don’t get

I don’t get men who were their floppy polo neck shirt collars up. I don’t get gangsta rap. I don’t get people who name Dirty Dancing as their favourite film. Or George W. Bush supporters. Or people who think the world was made in 7 days and is only 6,000 years old. I don’t get very overweight girls who wear really tight midriff tops; guys who drive around in bright yellow ‘modified’ cars playing loud doof-doof-doof music; shops that use price stickers that don’t come off; property developers; those trucks and bikes with advertising signs attached to them that drive around the city; skywriters; fundamentalist Christians; people who only read magazines and not books; people who borrow books and don’t return them; people who talk really loudly in restaurants; parents who think that ignoring their kid when it has a public tantrum is good parenting; fluffy toys on car dashboards; Oprah Winfrey; Starbucks coffee drinkers; people who don’t drink any form of alcohol just because they got pissed on Southern Comfort and threw up once when they were 15; Australian Idol; water features; greed; waiters who think being rude to you will somehow put them above you even though they would get much more respect by doing their job well; pokie machines; nightclub bouncers; people who buy a house next to a pub that’s been there for twenty years and then complain so much about the noise that the pub has to close; the bullshit sincerity of late night infomercials; and the fashion for pastel T shirts with bad graphics that look as though they all came out of the same factory. I don’t get forcing your beliefs on others. Or people who talk in cinemas.

What do you not get?

Tuesday, November 16, 2004

Crazy life …

Right now, I’m trying to get my head around understanding which tag is which in Movable Type so I can work out how to format this blog to my satisfaction. For a non-programmer like me this is, as usual, like fighting a giant octopus in a vat of slowly congealing treacle.

I’m also working on print ads, web banners, computer game packaging, websites, mapping artwork and a corporate identity.

In between I’m trying to get the CD artwork finished for my band The Telltales so I can send the golden master CD and the artwork off for the printing and duplication of our second CD release.

I’m also rehearsing with the band, playing squash on Wednesday nights, thinking about revamping my business site at Universal Head, occasionally creating reference sheets for my huge collection of boardgames, wanting to start scuba diving on weekends again, spending time with my wonderful girlfriend, sneaking in a frustrating hour on the xBox now and again playing Thief, updating my Cinema4D resource site, determined to find the time to write a story for the writing club I’m in which meets in a couple of weeks, reading the last book in the incredible ‘His Dark Materials’ trilogy by Philip Pullman, trying to save a few bucks, watching Lost in Space Season One and planning to get Sleepy Hollow on DVD, and beginning to think about this year’s Christmas card design for my business.

Sometimes I think I purposely give myself too much to do …

Tuesday, November 9, 2004

It’s simple, really, you’re wrong

I read in the paper this morning that there is a book on the main shelves of the bookshop at the Grand Canyon in Arizona, USA, that presents as fact the idea that the Canyon was created 6,000 years ago by the biblical flood. All efforts by intelligent human beings to have the book moved into the ‘inspirational reading’ section have apparently been thwarted by Christian lobby groups who see such an action as book censorship. The book remains a bestseller.

Is it any wonder they voted George W. Bush back in?

More: relevant article in the New York Times (via Antipixel)

Thursday, November 4, 2004

America fucks up again

Congratulations America, good choice! Four more years of spiralling debt! More innocent lives lost on both sides of a pointless war begun on lies! Sex education and HIV programmes based on the latest in ‘just don’t have sex’ faith-based logic! World-affecting decisions made by a man who doesn’t know not to eat a raw ear of corn and can hardly string a sentence together! Straight to hell for anyone who doesn’t accept Jesus Christ as their personal saviour! Another 98 days of the year for Bush to holiday on the ranch!

If he didn’t affect the rest of the world so much, I’d say America deserves him. Unbelievably, the majority of Americans have declared themselves supporters of the actions of their government over the past four years. Obviously being a half wit is no block to becoming the President. Good Morning President Schwarzenegger! Let’s bomb the green bits after lunch!

Some other comments from blogs and places I visit: Maniacal Rage, Andy Budd (more subtle than me), What Do I Know, Never Forget, It’s the American People, Stupid.

Tuesday, November 2, 2004

For the love of [insert preferred deity here], vote

I certainly can’t recall a more important election for America and the world. If you’re American and reading this, please vote. And—while far be it from me to impose my political and social beliefs on your—oh bugger it, just do the right thing and vote for Kerry willya? No one could possibly be worse than the idiot in the White House right now.

Monday, October 11, 2004

Mushrooms

What a depressing weekend. Howard and Liberal back into power with what looks like the balance of power in the Senate (oh, with the help of a new church-based ‘family values’ party), and Australians prove that as long as their mortgage payments don’t go up a few bucks and Australian Idol keeps churning out the episodes, they don’t give a shit that the person running the country is a deceitful weasel incapable of admitting when he is wrong and slowly turning back the clock on this country until we become a conservative, selfish little isolationist country in the pocket of America.

Look, I don’t claim to be an expert on politics, but it is obvious even to me that the government of a country is responsible for more than running the economy. It sets the ethical tone for a nation. And I’ve never been so depressed by an election result in my life. It’s quite obvious Australians have become soley motivated by money and fear, gripped by a growing conservatism that will slowly intrude more and more into our personal freedoms. Now watch that idiot Bush get back in and the trend continue.

Sunday, August 22, 2004

Rant: Ikea

We needed some bookcases for our living room. Anything from a non-Ikea/Freedom-type shop proves way too expensive. A browse of the Ikea website reveals they have simple 4x4 and 5x5 cubes bookcase in dark wood—they‘re affordable, and look fine. But then you start to deal with Ikea. You call to see if the item they advertise on their website and in their brochure is in stock and you get a five minute recorded blurb telling you about the website before you join the queue to talk to a sales person. Umm—I‘m using the phone, if I wanted to use the web I would wouldn‘t I? Then, of course, the 5x5 model is out of stock and won‘t be in again for 6 weeks. Six weeks?! Why does this happen every time I want something from Ikea?

The place astounds me; how does a business be so blatantly unconcerned with customer service, and yet have somehow developed some kind of untouchable reputation for quality and customer satisfaction?

Isn‘t the founder of Ikea one of the richest men in the world? Probably because he understood that marketing is everything. Give the public cheap, crappy quality goods dressed up as designer items, hire young and inexperienced staff, get the customers to do all the work (wait for six weeks, pick their goods up from the factory, build it themselves with the help of a badly designed language-free leaflet) and then sit back and rake in the profits.

Of course, we bought two of the other model and some other stuff and ended up spending $800. Now excuse me, I‘m off to watch Fight Club.

Saturday, June 5, 2004

Ebay addiction

A friend and I are both currently in the grip of eBay addiction. There was a time not so long ago when I scoffed at his watch lists and sniper bidding and coming in to work at odd hours to check upcoming auctions … and then I caught the bug. Isn’t there an eBay Anonymous or something? My only solace is that I’m hooked on one type of purchase (old games from my teens/early 20s years I’d sold back then and am now getting back for the nostalgia/collecting factor) and there’s a finite number of things to buy.

Something Fred said in an episode of ‘Angel’ the other night made me realise there were many others out there like me. She’s asked to check eBay to find something and replies in a panic: “No eBay! After the commorative plate incident I’m living clean.” So there’s hope you can kick the habit. Now excuse me, but I have to go check my watch list.

Saturday, May 15, 2004

Modern life is rubbish

According to the Sydney Morning Herald this morning, between 1996 and 2003 house prices in Sydney rose by 100 per cent while average weekly earnings grew by just 3.6 per cent a year.