I stole this from Smiley-Anne. With my own answers used instead, natch...

BASICS
Full Name: Della
Birthday: Every August
Birthplace: Tanunda, South Australia
Current Location: Somewhere in the wilds of Victoria...
Marital Status: Single
Eye Color: Hazel
Hair Color: Brown with a white streak
Height: 169cm or something like that
Shoe Size: 9, 9 1/2
Right or Left Handed: Right
Your Heritage: English and German
Parents Still Together: Yes
Siblings: No. I ate them

DO YOU
Color Your Hair: No, and probably never will
Twirl Your Hair: Yup, on occasion. One of those occasions was in Bunnings... Strange. But do not underestimate the power of feminine wiles to get hardware guys to help you
Have Tattoos: Not yet
Have Piercings: Not yet
Want More Piercings: I did once have a list of about eight piercings I wanted, some of which reduce employability...
Like Roller Coasters: I want to go on one, just to try it out
Wish You Could Live Somewhere Else: Yes and no. I'd love to be back in the Barossa - every time I watch The Cook and The Chef, a little part of me goes, "HOME!" - but then here's not too bad in its own way either
Like Cleaning: Sometimes. Spring cleaning can be fun
Write In Print Or Cursive: Cursive
Own A Webcam: No
Own A Laptop: Yarp
Own A Mobile: Yeah
Think You're Attractive: I s'pose so.
Get Motion Sickness: Rarely
Want To Get Married: Maybe one day. It's not high on the list of things to do in life at the moment
Believe In Yourself: Yup
Get Along With Your Parents: Yup
Play An Instrument: Piano, but I'm out of practice
Like Thunderstorms: Unless they're in Summer and a dry storm... Then yes
Swear: *ahem*
Smoke: Nope
Drink: Alcohol? No
Shower Daily: Yup
Want To Go To College: Already done that...
Know how To Drive: Yup
Cheat On Tests/Homework: No
Believe There Is Life On Other Planets: Yup
Read The Newspaper: Daily
Wear Hats: As if... Fascinators are far more fun!
Believe In Miracles: Yes
Do Well In School: I did when I was there
Hate Yourself: No
Have An Obsession: At the moment, it's snow peas
Have a Best Friend: Yup
Have Close Friends: Yup
Care About Looks: Well, to a degree. They're not the be-all and end-all, but then you do have to make sure you're looking presentable, rather than like you've been dragged backward through a hedge by a threshing machine
Like Your Handwriting: Yup
Collect Anything: Crazy people

HAVE YOU EVER
Been In A Fist Fight: Fisticuffs at dawn! No, thankfully
Considered A Life In Crime: Do I look like I'd be capable of that? Too much effort. Plus all the dying that happens (eg: Melbourne gangland war stuff)
Considered Being A Hooker: I've never even considered playing rugby
Lied To Someone: Yup
Been Used: Yup
Used Someone: Yup
Been In Love: Yup
Kicked Someone In The Nuts: I once hit someone accidentally in the nuts with a nut...
Stolen Anything: Once when I was little. I felt so bad about it afterward and gave what I'd taken back
Held A Gun: Yup
Cheated On Someone: No, and I don't think I ever would
Been Cheated On: Yes
Been Drunk: Nup
Passed Out: Nup
Been High: Sugar high, yes
Smoked A Cigarette: Nope, but probably have inhaled enough smoke thanks to friends, etc who smoke
Been Dumped: Yup
Skipped Class: Once or twice
Skipped School: Nah
Made Out With Just A Friend: Yup

CURRENTS
Mood: It's a Monday. Ask me tomorrow
Hair: My hair's being big and curly at the moment
Clothing: Shirt, sweater, knee-length skirt
Shoes: Black peep-toe six-inch heels
What You Smell Like: Peaches
Thing You Smell: The smell of offices, which makes my soul die
CD In Stereo: Rammstein's Rosenrot
Thing I Ought To Be Doing: Having lunch

FAVORITES
Color: Black
Number: 11
Sport: Not a sporty person, but I love watching cricket
Animal: Dogs
Drink: I've got an obsession with Boost juice's Mango Magic at the moment
Soda: Not really a fan of soda
Book: Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte or Martin Chuzzlewit by Charles Dickens
Flower: Orchids
Place To Be: In the Barossa. And that does NOT include Gawler OR Lyndoch
Theme Park: Not a theme park kinda girl. Surely there are other, more fun, things to ride
Fruit: Mango!

ARE YOU
A Daydreamer: On occasion
Sarcastic: Yup
Angel: On the odd occasion
Devil: Not as much as some people like to think...
Shy: Sometimes
Talkative: Yup

One for the entomophobics...

He was on his back when I found him, looking dead.

I poked him with the point of my shoe.

He moved.

I turned him over, photographed him and then he clumsily flew off.

Obviously, it's important to interact with nature in your lunch break... Particularly if it provides photo opportunities.

Forget

I'd forgotten.

But tomorrow I remembered about a cafe that used to be in a town near where I grew up. It was called Forget-Me-Not Cafe or something along those lines and took over a shop area that was a hairdresser and later became an overly crammed second-hand store full of nothing worth having.

When I was little, Mum and I would sometimes go there for a treat. The food was nice, as I recall, and there seems to be some variety of distant memory about chocolate milkshakes. The cafe itself was always dark - its small 1870s windows and low ceiling made it that way. There was a mysterious kitchen. And pictures of forget-me-nots on the menu.

Until then, I'd quite forgotten.

The clouds were so unusual tonight that I ended up spending a ridiculous amount of time photographing them. And then they were blown away and we're currently enjoying some pleasant gale-force winds... Sometimes such weather makes you wonder why you even bother raking the yard when it ends up looking like the central collection point for the leaves and twigs of the universe.

Whenever the moon and stars are set,
Whenever the wind is high,
All night long in the dark and wet,
A man goes riding by.
Late in the night when the fires are out,
Why does he gallop and gallop about?

Whenever the trees are crying aloud,
And ships are tossed at sea,
By, on the highway, low and loud,
By at the gallop goes he.
By at the gallop he goes, and then
By he comes back at the gallop again.
- "Windy Nights," Robert Louis Stevenson

I keep finding photos I love on the discs, so I guess you get to be inflicted with them. This was one I took at Frankfurt airport.

^ Random photo from Ulm.

I'm going through the wedding photos and finally sending them... Only taken since the early part of June. But I found a vid I'd done as well of the wedding party doing some variety of line-dancing style thing to medieval music, which was featured at the reception, and sent that on to Tobi and Andrea as well.

While I think of vids made on holiday, I should see if I can find the one of that guy at Stonehenge who was parading around, talking into his mobile VERY loudly about random things and his own self-importance...

Hillsong, glass houses, stones and Jesus as an investment portfolio option

I finished reading People in Glass Houses by Tanya Levin last night after being given it to look over by my boss on Monday. And Bob, I laughed, I cried, it was great!

Well, not quite...

I admit I wondered how I'd approach it - I don't think overly highly of Hillsong to begin with, so I knew I wouldn't be approaching it from a truly objective perspective. And Levin isn't exactly an impartial observer.

Overall, I wished there'd been more references and that it had been more of a study or investigative work into Hillsong. As it is, People In Glass Houses is basically anecdotal, deeply personal experience. Her life growing up as a Christian, having questions and doubts, becoming alienated from the church, finally being rejected and excluded by it.

The book isn't motivated by malice and it's not about discrediting religion or faith. She admires people with genuine, strong faiths and laments her own slow loss of faith and trust in what her church had provided her with. There's hurt there, definitely. You do feel truly sad about the way Levin was treated by Hillsong - it would hurt to be told you're not welcome to come onto the premises of the church you'd gone to since you were 14 simply because you were asking some awkward questions.

I kind of wonder what would have happened if people in the church had been able to provide answers for her initial questions as a teenager, the doubts, the desires for more knowledge and why, instead of being told that it was Satan making you ask questions rather than God leading you to blindly accept everything. I was saddened by this, the lack of answers, the slow erosion of faith and the obviously deep desire to connect better with God that was not being dealt with by the church who could have helped nurture the connection. It seems like they chose not to because it was "too difficult."

Hillsong didn't and doesn't do itself any favours by refusing to speak to Levin or others who are inquiring about what they're up to, especially when it comes to money. Openness and honesty would probably give them a much better image within the community. I know I'd feel a lot more comfortable if they were more accountable with what happened with the funds they receive. Is it a church or a corporation? I should add that I really dislike the prosperity gospel.

The cult-calling I wasn't so sure about. Maybe I just don't really like the "cult" tag all that much, or would prefer things to be really, seriously backed up with hard evidence/facts/incidents to go with the points about what a cult is, etc.

And as for the "Shine" program... Well, at least knowing how to do your makeup and paint your nails will be the saving grace of your self-esteem if you're a girl. Remember, you have to look hot to get a nice Christian husband!

For further reading, there's a Signposts blog entry on it, as well as a 7.30 Report thing, and then there's Andrew Bartlett's comment on Hillsong's take on depression here. There's also this for a more biased-seeming kinda thing.

Mmm, Melbourne

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? No, for thou art strange and cold even when it looks like it's sunny and warm outside and Southern Cross Station—which shall forever be Spencer Street to me—is like the interior of a fridge and somehow I defend its peculiar architecture to a visiting friend and that's when I know that Melbourne is the city I have grown rather fond of...


*sigh*

The busiest weekend I've had in a long time involved an excellent five or so hours catching up with a friend from High School (Kimmi!), a lazy brunch in a laneway cafe, wandering, attempting to shop (and failing outrageously because the vast majority of clothes at the moment are simply appalling and only served to induce laughter. Or occasionally, horrified looks and leaving the store quickly), coffee, political discussions, excellent hot chocolate, general merriment and a mutual hatred of bad books.

It was the perfect Melbourne day, really.


The only bad thing about it was the public transport racism. On the train on the way to Spencer Street, there was an older couple behind me. They spent some time discussing the murder of Anan Liu, with the husband presenting the sentiment that "All Asian males are animals." All while there's a sweet-looking young Asian man sitting in the seat across the aisle from them... I turned around and glared at him in disbelief, but he and his wife looked smugly oblivious. Then on the bus home, a teenage boy was expressing his thoughts about how non-white people should leave Australia and go back to their own countries if they had a different opinion to him about anything, including McDonalds.

Jerks. And racist jerks at that.

I should have said something to them, but the dude on the train was big and scary looking, and you sort of don't want to incite some variety of violence or whatever... Ugh.

Even when you leave Sydney—no matter what it thinks of itself, it's ultimately a town of cashed-up, superficial bogans—and move to somewhere considered to be more multicultural, cultured and European in style, it seems you can't get away from that insidious racist element that seems to have crept into Australian life further and further and become more and more "acceptable" since Pauline Hanson made her political debut and J-Ho followed up by adopting some of her policies in the years following it.

It's one element of Australia I hate so much, that's so ridiculously unnecessary, that should have been left to rot in a dank, dark corner of history, that we should have learned from, that shouldn't be encouraged by people laughing along when someone says something obviously racist, that we need to put a stop to before it further feeds the fear of the "other" that's wrecking our multicultural goodness...

Other than that, it was the perfect Melbourne day.

Graffiti photos taken by me on the train ride in to Spencer Street Station.
Must remember to take the camera again next time and snap some more...
Gotta love graffiti on the backs of buildings facing onto the tracks.

Avast there me hearties!

In honour of Talk Like a Pirate Day, my officemate and I have been ultra-productive and come up with a list of pirate pick up lines. Here 'tis!

> "You can walk me plank anytime, wench!"
> "Let me bury me treasure in yer x spot..."
> "Which marks the spot - x or g? Yarrrr..."
> "Lovely treasure chests!"
> "Care to sit atop me crows nest?"
> "Me leg ain't the only thing that's wooden!"
> "They don't call me Long John Silver fer nothin'!"
> "Let me show ye Davey Jones' locker..."
> "Is that a dagger in yer pocket, or are ye just happy ter see me?"
> "I'll sail yer seven seas!"
> "Yer really float me boat."
> "Polly wanna smack 'er!" (accompanied by appropriate booty dance)
> "Yer can fire me cannon anytime, lass."
> "I'm sure there's treasure in yer pirate cave!"
> "Yer give me a tingle in me dubloons."
> "Want a jolly roger?"
> "Two full treasure chests make me a happy pirate!"
> "A cap'n always goes down fer his ship..."
> "Have ye ever heard a song called Friggin' in the Riggin'?"
> "Care to join me in the hold?"
> "Ye take port and I'll take starboard..."
> "I'll scuttle me vessel on yer rocks!"
> "Yer really hoist me main sail!"

And that's all we have so far... But feel free to add any more you can think of! We've also decided that there should be more random "Talk Like" days, starting with Talk Like Barry White Day, Talk Like The Sound of Music Day, Talk Like a Robot Day (mostly just about talking like Bender), Talk Like a Wigga Day, Talk Like Fiddy Cent Day, Talk Like a Telemarketer Day, etc, etc... The list is potentially endless!

I have an excuse.

I've been sick. All weekend and still sick now. Went to the doctors today and got poked and prodded and had blood removed for testing, so I get to go back tomorrow for the results (hopefully they'll be in) and more poking and prodding and immunising. Bleh.

No idea what it is. The general feeling is one like I've been thrown down a flight of stairs and then kicked repeatedly by an angry midget. Hopefully it's nothing serious. And just to be on the safe side, I've been avoiding stairs and midgets.

*sigh*

Being sick is such a waste of time.

Buh?!

Continuing on from the previous entry about disturbing music while shopping, tonight while doing groceries they had some song on the shop radio about taking someone home and makin' love to them all night, oh sweeeeeeeeeeeet lovin' baby, mmmhmm, that's what I'm talking 'bout kind of thing.

Kind of disturbing when you're in the fruit and vege section (kind of disturbing just in general). As Larie said, it made you glad you weren't holding melons at the time or something, all of which was observed as a guy behind us picked up some carrots.

He stared at us.

Just wondering what I'll hear next time groceries are to be done? Closer by NIN? Some Marvin Gaye?? A selection of Barry White? Or just a voice clip of Austin Powers saying, "So, shall we shag now, or shag later?!"


^ Of course, that pic's from Savage Chickens. They also have a guide to becoming the next Barry White, which can be found here if you're interested.

When I feel down...

Non-disturbing thing of the day: Cadbury chocolate blocks at a sane price! Like the price they used to be around five years ago!

Hurrah!

Disturbing thing of the day: Hearing I Touch Myself by the Divinyls playing loudly in the supermarket while buying chocolate. Elderly person behind me at the registers humming along.

>.<

RBHGM presents: APEC Fashion Suggestions

I was reading something on the ABC's Offbeat section of the news about how they're having some issues with trying to find appropriate outfits for the coming APEC meeting in Sydney. I decided I'd have a bash at some suggestions (and yes, the drawings are kind of bollocks, but they're just rough sketches!), so without further ado (trumpet fanfare aside), Random Black Heart Glitter Moments presents:

Le Aboriginal


With John Howard's recent interest in what's happening in Aboriginal communities, it is possible that Aboriginal-style outfits from the time prior to white settlement (or invasion, as it may be classed) could be something the PM might consider.

Le Convict


And if that doesn't work, then a return to the good ol' convict heritage, which so many people seem to know about around the world and immediately associate with our nation, could be appropriate. It would also be somewhat symbolic, too, of the current situation in which Sydney appears to be prisoner within three-metre fencing.

Le Stockman


Another Australian icon. Niceness.

Le Shearer


Yet another Aussie icon. And although our nation apparently is riding on the back of the mining industry now days rather than the sheep, we probably wouldn't be where we are now without the hard work of farmers and all associated with them. Mercy knows what'll happen if the drought keeps up.

Le Lifesaver


Mreowr. Although this will require all the world leaders at the APEC meeting to have the body of Vladimir Putin...

Le He-Bogan


It's still the 1980s, according to the he-bogan. Nothing beats a mullet, tight acid-wash jeans, a flannel shirt and various other bogan accessories, including year-'round beanies, TAB form guides and, if you're from Elizabeth, the neighbour's DVD player tucked under your arm. Perhaps not entirely appropriate for APEC, but it leads nicely to...

La She-Bogan


Low-slung trackies, general skankiness, fried over-dyed (sometimes extended) hair, you know the sort of thing. Usually seen with Le He-Bogan.

La Supre


You know the sort. Entire Supre outfits, including those things of horror - leggings - and skirts so short the world could be your gynecologist, were it not for the leggings. So maybe we should thank God for leggings. Anyways. Overpriced miniature poorly-made clothing will always sell. Don't think Hellen Clarke would appreciate it, for some reason.

Le Emo


In between MySpazz'ing and hanging around at train stations with other emos (is it the traditional meeting ground or something??), Le Emo can be found wearing tight skinny black jeans, some emo-ific tshirt, random haircuts and general androgyny. Something to share with other APEC nations, something we have in common, perhaps. And it could unite the leaders in writing emotional poems about walls, water cannons and oppression.

Le Wigga


Gah. Why, why, why?? Especially when you live out in the country? Anyways. Do you think this kind of outfit would suit Stephen Harper?

Also, on a more serious note, if J-Ho and the Aussie government are now oh-so-concerned about the environment, carbon emissions, etc, why on earth didn't they ever do anything about the Kyoto Protocol? Surely they'd have to realise how stupid it all sounds to be banging on about how we need to give the environment mouth-to-mouth and some flowers when they've avoided the Kyoto thing all along??

Reflections

Stumped

A nice dose of Monday morning hilarity can be found here.

And it all reminds me of this:


(From Cyanide & Happiness)

I have a slight fascination with skulls and bones.

On Friday, I found a fantastic skirt that made me think somewhat of the Aztec-style skulls (although with a weird acidy twist to it with those odd hearts-for-eyes) and immediately *had* to buy it. No second thoughts, just, "Right, you're coming home with me!" (the print of the skirt is on the top pic) (the other pics are: my scarf, my backpack and the print on a cardigan.)

The only weird thing about it all was the guy in the shop calling me "mate." But we've seen each other often before when he's been working in that store and I've popped in to see what skull-y goodness might be on offer. Still, "mate" seems more of a term you'd use on guys. And I'm quite obviously not one of them.

Anyway. Skulls. Bones. Tombstones. It all seems kind of emo or gothic or something like that, but really it's not. For a start, I've got no desire to do odd things to my hair, wear skinny black jeans and write appalling poetry on MySpazz *shudder* I've just always been interested in such things. And I watched The Addams Family a lot when I was growing up, so that probably explains quite a lot.

We went across the Simpson Desert when I was younger, and I found a camel's skeleton among some of the dunes. It took quite a bit of convincing on the part of my parents for me to not stash parts of it in the 4WD. I was quite fascinated with a sheep's skull I found in a paddock when I was Kindergarten-age (it had such odd teeth). There are random bits of animal bones and teeth I've collected over the years in odd places around the house (including a shark's tooth I found on a beach on Kangaroo Island). My dog's ashes are in a wooden box on top of the television.

Morbidity is probably the only explaination. Either that, or I've been won over by the cute sugar-candy skulls that are a feature of Día de los Muertos...

À la recherche du temps perdu

Recently I reorganised my rather overcrowded bedroom and ended up moving a whole lot of my favourite books to put them within easier reach (and at risk of falling on my head as I sleep...). Having moved the enormous, framed print that had previously inhabited the head of the bed to the end of the dining room table, there was suddenly room for more books in the bedroom.

Mmm...

Current favourites include:

> William H Prescott's The History of the Conquest of Peru, which is also giving my slightly-remembered Spanish a workout with footnotes, etc and is generally enjoyable.

> Great Short Stories of the World, compiled by Barret Clark and Maxim Lieber. My grandparents owned this originally, and I ended up inheriting it. There are some truly unusual stories in it, but a lot of great ones too.

> Bram Stoker's Dracula. I read it first when I was about 11 or so and wasn't all that impressed by it, but a few months ago, it came free with some other classics so I figured it was time to sink my teeth into it again. Better than I remembered.

> Status Anxiety by Alain de Botton (mmm, sexynerdy), which I've just started to read for about the fourth time. Must buy The Architecture of Happiness, which is one of those books you see when they first come out and think, "Oooh, I'll get it next time" about. And then keep forgetting. Or it's not in stock when you're next there. Kind of glad I didn't read The Art of Travel, as I found I utterly and completely enjoyed my holidays in June without realising the possibilities of disorientation, mid-afternoon despair or lethargy before ancient ruins...

> Although I love all of the Chronicles of Narnia by CS Lewis, The Magician's Nephew and The Silver Chair have been ones I've enjoyed re-reading lately.

> The Oxford Book of English Verse, edited by Aruther Quiller-Couch (more of a perennial favourite, really).

Admittedly, I read too many "old" books. But it can be hard to find a good-quality "new" book. I have an unending amount of contempt for "chick lit," which seems to be what many book stores believe everyone wants. Either that or it's some pretentious long-winded drivel (if I want that, I can blog ;). Or crime novels, of which I had my fill by the age of 16 or so.

I guess it's just time to really browse through a well-stocked bookshop and discover what's on offer. Maybe explore some more Australian literature. After all, you can always give books away if you don't like them yourself. Even though books I buy tend to get to stay even if I dislike them, and they spend their days crammed into a bookshelf and often never looked at again.

^ The clouds yesterday afternoon.

I have returned to blogging... After being away being uninspired to write anything. Plus the weather has been fantastic, I've been busy with family things and birthdays, life has been life. Plus there's been things to burn in the yard. Always fun. Especially when pebbles that like to explode when heated are lurking in the leaves.

Hmmm...

*cue musical interlude*

Apparently I've run out of inspiration to write anything again for my blog. Bleh. You can just imagine the winding-down-gramophone sound for yourselves there.

Random photos from the weekend.

Huzzah!

Savage Chickens. My (new) favourite!

Yarp...

Much as I love Hot Fuzz, it's really not the best idea to be eating strawberry jelly when you see the scene that features Tim Messenger's demise (inspired as it may be). Look at the screen, look down at the spoon with jelly on it, let your eyes wander down to the bowl and the slick, red jelly...

Eww.

*shudder* You know that tummy flip-flop feeling.

Suddenly don't want jelly any more. But then it is rather late at night to be having jelly, so perhaps it's for the best.

DS Andy Wainwright: You do know there are more guns in the country than there are in the city.
DS Andy Cartwright: Everyone and their mums is packin' round here
Nicholas Angel: Like who?
DS Andy Wainwright: Farmers.
Nicholas Angel: Who else?
DS Andy Cartwright: Farmers' mums.

Oh noes!

I just broke my spork!

Well, not so much broke as melted it.

*insert shocked, horrified look*

Now... As you were.

Hmm...

Uninspired to write anything lately for the blog.

It's my birthday soon and maybe the lack of desire to write anything for my blog is indicative of a nearly-quarterlife crisis. Meh. That would require effort and be cliche (is everyone else sick of "Oh noes! WTF am I going to do with my life? I'm in my 20s and it's sooooooo hard! I know! I'll write on MySpazz about how hard it is." movies and books and stuff, too?).

So maybe I'll get inspired and thing of something to write about something. I mean, what's there to say about politics at the moment, other than it's getting ridiculous now with the scent of a possible November election in the wind, the stupid "WorkChoices is great so shuddupayourface" ads being put on by business, all the rubbish about "Ooh, it's the fault of the States!" when even people who aren't economically-minded can see that's a stupid argument... It's all just so silly.

Other than that, it's still winter, there's still loads of work to be done and I really should plan ahead for something exciting, outrageous, adventurous and so on for the next birthday I have.

After all, that one will be the quarter of a century thing.

In other thoughts, the "Ice Mentos" chewy is about as icy as a warm shower. Pffffft. And I really need more sleep. But it was so worth it to stay up late nattering with Amy and laughing so much and so hard my tummy hurt. Yay :D

Pic from lolcats

Fashionizatsiya*

Hmmm... I wonder if they still do those touristy American and Soviet-era border pass stamps by the Brandenburg Gate? And whether they'd take payment in vodka?? I'll have to get Grigor to stop the car and find out...

According to The Age, Mikhail Gorbachev is set to model for Louis Vuitton. And I have to say, I love the idea!

I remember Mr Gorbachev being in power in the USSR when I was little, perhaps only because of the easily-recognisable birthmark on the top of his balding head. The Soviet Union seemed to be in its death throes when he came into power. He was the first leader of Russia to be born after the Revolution and was the architect of glasnost, which helped to pave the way for democratic reform (okay, so there was the failure of uskoreniye...) (and there was also perestroika, which sucked for people and sent the economy into a tailspin and has perhaps allowed organised crime to become what it is today in Russia). But he was a forward thinker in a time when many in his party seemed to want to keep things just as they were.

And then the Berlin Wall fell, which seemed to be the strongest, most symbolic evidence of the end of the Soviet Union and Communism therein. Mr Gorbachev's time as leader ended in turmoil, including an attempted coup in 1991, which was stopped by Boris Yeltsin. That same year, he gave power to Yeltsin and agreed to the disolving of the USSR as of January 1, 1992.

In spite of that and the animosity apparently felt toward him by a number of Russian people - understandable, perhaps, in the face of what happened with perestroika - he's generally well-regarded in the West and always was, even when he was leader of the USSR. He's an obviously intelligent man and the awards he's received are quite well-deserved, really. Plus his environmental focus and desire for sustainable living is great.

So I think it's kind of cool that someone intelligent, with such strong historical connections and future focus, rather than an anonymous model or moderately talented actress, will be featured in the Vuitton ads. Plus the one with Mr Gorbachev is done in Berlin, in front of a section of the Berlin Wall (and I loved going to Berlin - it was funny watching Lola Rennt the other night and thinking, "I've been there! Finally! And I must go back.").

Tennis stars Steffi Graf and Andre Agassi and veteran French actress Catherine Deneuve will also be making appearances in the ads, with the photos taken by Annie Liebovitz. Must keep an eye out for them.

*Fashion meets demokratizatsiya - a slogan introduced by Mr Gorbachev calling for the infusion of democratic elements to be brought into the single-party Communist-run country's government. The world needs more English-Russian crossbreed words...

Mikhail Gorbachev speaking of the Great Wall of China: "It's a very beautiful work, but there are already too many walls between people."

Today while doing the washing up, I had the odd feeling someone was watching me, so I looked up out the kitchen windown. Staring at me from the driveway at the top of the steps is a large, black cat.

I stared back at it.

He slowly walked down the steps and down past the house, out to the back yard. Somehow I was sorely tempted to make rude gestures at it with my hot-pink rubber gloves on.

And all that follows being followed by a big crow yesterday.

Bizarre.

Sto Kalo… Sto Kalo…. Kala Nea na me Feris

This morning as I left the house, a crow flew down out of the trees and landed on the electric wire leading to the house.

It stared at me intently and then flew down and followed me up the driveway then further up the road, eyeballing me the whole way. Although I'm not overly superstitious, I found it unnerving - I wasn't totally sure whether it was thinking the cake I was carrying or I myself would be a tasty meal. Maybe it just liked my entirely black outfit and shiny shoes. Being stalked by a crow isn't the most comforting feeling, even though I generally rather like them.

The whole thing made me think of all kinds of myths and superstitions about crows, most of which seem to relate to death and destruction (and I'd watched Nochnoy Dozor over the weekend).

I discovered that in Greek superstition, crows are seen as omens of bad news, misfortune and death. When you see a crow, you say "Sto Kalo… Sto Kalo…. Kala Nea na me Feris," which apparently means, "Go well into the day and bring me good news." According to English folklore, you should raise your hat to the bird as a sign of respect or greet him cheerfully (so as to avoid insulting it). Either that or cross yourself and say, "Devil, devil, I defy thee."

Wish I'd known those this morning! Although I told a friend about it and he said, "You're evil, you'll be fine." Noice.

If you're interested, you can read more about folklore and superstitions relating to crows at The Raven's Aviary.

One for sorrow, two for mirth,
Three for a wedding, four for a birth,
Five for silver, six for gold,
Seven for a secret not to be told.
Eight for heaven, nine for hell,
And ten for the devil's own sel'.

Flowers from around Droxford.

Jane Austen's house

On our last day in England, we extended the hire for the car so we could potter around the Winchester area for longer (we all loved it there and figured it'd be better than heading back into London, where we'd have gotten to lug around suitcases for the day. Always fun...). So we went to Jane Austen's house in Chawton, which Dad wanted to see.

It was so worth going! The house was rather old and had floors that creaked in the most alarming manner. Apparently there was a creaky floorboard or something just before the room where Jane used to do her work and she didn't want it fixed because it let her know if someone was approaching so she could quickly stash her manuscript.

The gardens there were absolutely gorgeous as well. And there was a plump little robin that followed us around the garden, I think waiting for us to give him food. He'd bob around pecking at insects and then bob back over our way, looking hopeful, then back to the insects when we didn't hand over any bird-worthy snacks.

The government wants to give police and law agencies new secret search powers.

I find this really scary, perhaps because of reading Stasiland and 1984, perhaps because I watched the Cutting Edge program last night called "Spying on the Home Front," perhaps because it seems like rights and freedoms are being stripped away and abused without anyone in the government complaining...

And no, it's not because I'm involved in illegal activities (I think the closest I've come to doing something illegal lately was putting a foot briefly on the seat in front of me in the train while trying to get some balance for drawing and then I remembered it's an offense to do so and quickly removing it - humble apologies to Connex! (but would it kill you to have smoother-running trains??)).

It's because it's draconian and insane and invasive. What are we going to become, Australia? A country where we're encouraged to spy on each other, mistrust everyone and use the "It's maybe a terrorist! Get them!" excuse every time rights are eroded? We're a western democracy. We do not need the secret police.

You can check out other people's thoughts about this on the SMH NewsBlog.

Random ramblings

Are Australians stupid enough to vote for Howard again?

The topic is one that depresses me. Was talking about it with a friend on Friday night and we both concluded it was entirely likely he'd get another term. I was looking at the Oz Politics blog earlier, with stats for how a December election could see a return of the coalition government.

And then I did some technorati poking around concerning the Dr Mohamed Haneef matter.

Not a fan of Bolta, but I found his blog about "Andrews only gets worse" to be kind of interesting. And some of the comments on the blog about how Haneef's guilty until proven innocent and all people should be deported/locked up/etc if they have relatives who do naughty things, how all the bleeding heart lefties will just have to wait 'til the bombs start goin' off in Orrrstraaaaaaaaya... etc makes me think, "Yes, there are still enough people out there who are willing to defend the Howard government to the death over matters that are clearly incorrect, abuses of personal freedoms and locking people up for indefinite periods. Would they feel as comfortable if the same were done to them?"

It seems like there's still a lot of rednecks and racists out there who are willing to believe that someone's a terrorists simply because they are Muslim or of "Arabic appearance." And they'll support the government in doing the same. All the while saying how Kevin Rudd is just as bad for not condemning it - apparently in their mind it makes sense to support the government for their handling of the Haneef thing while being critical of the Labor party for stating they'd reserve judgment until more information was made available (which it still hasn't been, it would seem).

On the other hand, Tim Dunlop's blog entry was pretty good, about the unanswered questions in the Haneef case.

Anyways, away from blogging and in the news, the PM's not going to apologise, saying we're better safe than sorry. Alexander Downer said it showed the system worked well. Kevin Andrews says Dr Haneef's departure to India - following his release from detention and visa cancellation - has heightened suspicions about the doctor's character. This is all in spite of him being cleared of chargers on Friday by the Commonwealth Director of Public Prosecution, Damien Bugg QC (who said that in his view, a mistake had been made). Oh, and the PM's also saying how he's not distancing himself from Andrews following the case (which is probably making a few people recall the Brian Burke "scandal" days) ("No option but to oust the minister" by Hedley Thomas in The Australian).

Andrews is currently making Amanda Vanstone look like a bonza immigration minister, though. Although that said, I kind of liked her somehow. She was a strong individual, had a sense of humour and generally spoke her mind. To restore Haneef's visa would admit Andrews has made a big error. So he's talking about having secret documents, of which he wishes to release "selected" pieces. That doesn't inspire me with much confidence in itself. Perhaps because the government currently never seems to want to say "Sorry" for anything and just try to find some way or another out of doing so.

You don't defeat terrorism by throwing out principles that have been fought for. It's ironic to think that the terrorists work to cause chaos and thus put a curb on exercising personal freedoms, and then in reaction to terrorists, that's just what governments have been doing in regard to the personal freedom side of things. More monitoring, more desires to ban things, more laws to take away freedoms... (Just to be absolutely clear, terrorism is very wrong and there do need to be protections in place, but not those that come at the expense of the innocent - hiding the abuse of human rights, illegal activities and so on behind the veil of "Oh, this will protect you all from terrorism so shut up and just accept it" is just cowardly).

And apparently in the minds of some, thinking that the processes of law need to be just and fair and human rights abided by makes you a "bleeding heart lefty," ignoring the fact that innocence until proven guilty is one of the tenants of western justice, simply because they wish to pus their own agenda and prejudices against people of certain faiths or ethnicities or political persuasions. Instead, they want to say he's guilty by association, so that means everyone in the world has the potential to be guilty of something due to being associated with others. Everyone has a black sheep in the family...

But at least I guess Dr Haneef wasn't arrested by ASIO and held by them. In that case, he wouldn't be able to tell anyone about it, and anyone reporting on it could be in trouble. The laws also allow ASIO to compel testimony, apparently. Which probably involved being strapped to a chair in a room while Rolf Harris's greatest hits are piped in through speakers. Frightening thought.