MELANCHOLY MOOD

“One often calms one's grief by recounting it.” - Pierre Corneille

I am in a rather melancholy mood tonight and usually Bach is what I listen to when I feel like this. It is soothing and introspective music that helps me think and meditate.

Here is the Bach Prelude for Lute in D Minor BWV 1008, played by David Tayler on the archlute.

THE GOLDEN APPLE OF THE HESPERIDES

“If junk food is the devil, then a sweet orange is as scripture.” - Terri Guillemets

Our orange tree is laden with wonderful, ripe, bright oranges. They shine like beacons amongst the glossy dark green leaves and the tree is more beautiful than a decorated Christmas tree. The taste of the oranges is rich, sweet and sour and the flavour is wonderful: The essence of winter that encloses within it the promise of spring. We eat them, juice them and cook with them. Here is a winter recipe:

CRÈME BRÛLÉE A L’ ORANGE
Ingredients
•    Finely grated rind of 1 orange
•    Juice of 1 orange
•    6 egg yolks
•    300 g caster sugar
•    600 ml thickened cream

Method
1.    Preheat the oven to 160°C.
2.    Place the orange rind, juice, egg yolks and 150g caster sugar in a food processor and process until combined.
3.    Place the thickened cream in a saucepan over medium heat and bring to just below boiling point. Stir the orange mixture into the heated cream, then divide the mixture among six 120 ml ramekins. Place the ramekins in a large roasting pan, then pour in enough boiling water to come halfway up sides of the ramekins. Place in the oven and bake for 30 minutes until the mixtures have just set.
4.    Remove the roasting pan from the oven and carefully remove the ramekins from the water. Cool for 20 minutes, then chill in the fridge for 2-3 hours until firm.
5.    For the topping, have ready a large bowl or sink filled with cold water. Place the remaining sugar and 130 ml water in a pan over low heat, stirring to dissolve sugar. Increase heat to medium - do not stir. Cook for 3-4 minutes until a light caramel colour.
6.    Remove from heat, then plunge the base of the pan into cold water to stop cooking process. Pour a thin layer over the custards and leave to set.

ST SWITHIN

“Sunshine is delicious, rain is refreshing, wind braces us up, snow is exhilarating; there is really no such thing as bad weather, only different kinds of good weather.” - John Ruskin

The last few days at work have been a whirlwind. I have been doing ten million things at once, have had meetings, working on submissions that are due to be lodged, entertaining interstate visitors, making preparations for a staff workshop next week, dealing with network outages, attending to several crises and numerous troubleshooting interventions. I didn’t have time to have lunch yesterday and even going in at 7:00 a.m. and leaving at 6:00 p.m isn’t enough to deal with the work that is accumulating. I have brought home some work to be done at the weekend, but I am too tired to work in the evening. I think that 11 and 12-hour work days are long enough. I certainly hope that by the end of the month the workload will ease…

Today is St Swithin’s Day in the Anglican calendar. St Swithin was a Saxon bishop of Winchester, well-beloved of his flock, who is believed to have died in 862 AD.  As his last wish before he died, he stipulated to be buried in the common churchyard amongst his poor parishioners.  His wish was granted, but so many miracles occurred at his grave that monks moved his remains to a magnificent shrine in Winchester Cathedral.  The Saint wept in protest causing a downpour that lasted for forty days:

St Swithin’s Day, if thou dost rain
Full forty days it will remain.
St Swithin’s Day, if thou be fair
For forty days ‘t will rain no mair.

In Buckingamshire the following variant of the weather oracle exists:

If on St Swithin’s day it really pours
You’re better off to stay indoors.

However, it was also believed in some parts of Britain that rain on St Swithin’s Day “christened” the apples which still should be unpicked on the trees.  No apples should be picked before St Swithin’s blessing is bestowed upon them; only then are they to ripen fully and reach their maturity. St Swithin is invoked in droughts, when it is thought that his intercession will bring about rain.

oracle |ˈôrəkəl| noun
1 A priest or priestess acting as a medium through whom advice or prophecy was sought from the gods in classical antiquity.
• A place at which such advice or prophecy was sought.
• A person or thing regarded as an infallible authority or guide on something : Casting the attorney general as the oracle for and guardian of the public interest is simply impossible.
2 a response or message given by an oracle, typically one that is ambiguous or obscure.
ORIGIN: late Middle English : via Old French from Latin oraculum, from orare ‘speak.’

BASTILLE DAY 2010

“Most men are more capable of great actions than of good ones.” – Montesquieu

It is Bastille Day today, the National Day of France. France is a Western European country with shores on the Atlantic Ocean and Mediterranean Sea. It has an area of 544,000 square km and a population of 60 million. Its terrain is varied with high plateaux, mountain ranges and lowland basins. Its climate is mild ranging from typical Mediterranean in the South, to mild and wet further to the North. Agriculture is favoured by both land and climate making France one of the major European exporters of wheat, barley, sugar beet and wine. Manufacturing is the other major employer with rich reserves of oil, gas and coal assisting greatly the economy. French perfumes and other luxury goods are a major income earner while tourism is also a major industry. Paris is the capital city with other major cities being Lyon, Marseille, Bordeaux, Lille, Grenoble, Rouen, Nantes and Toulouse.

The Bastille was an infamous prison in Paris, which the people stormed and seized in 1789, thus starting the French Revolution that toppled King Louis XVI and the aristocracy, ushering in the Republic. The revolutionary French song, “La Marseillaise” was composed by Claude-Joseph Rouget de Lisle in 1792 and soon became the rousing song of the revolution and later, the national anthem.
The first stanza is:

    Allons enfants de la patrie,
    Le jour de gloire est arrivé.
    Contre nous de la tyrannie
    L'étendard sanglant est levé.
   
    Arise, children of the nation!
    The day of glory is here.
    Against us we see raised
    Tyranny’s bloody banner!

Hector Berlioz in the 19th century arranged the anthem for chorus and orchestra. In true French style, where the composer would normally instruct “tenors and basses” to begin singing, Berlioz wrote “everyone with a voice, soul, and blood in his veins, sing!” After another revolt in 1830, there was new interest in La Marseillaise. De Lisle wrote Berlioz a letter of appreciation for his arrangement, and invited Berlioz to discuss a libretto that de Lisle had written, but de Lisle died before they could meet.

The Bastille Day holiday in France symbolises the overthrow of the old monarchy and the beginning of the French Republic. Not only was the French monarchy undemocratic, but the king and aristocracy also owned most of the arable land and extracted not only the rent but imposed taxes and restrictions on the people. The Bastille with its many poor prisoners, many of them debtors and political prisoners, symbolised all that was bad in the corrupt, greedy and profligate monarchy. Economic injustice caused the French revolutionaries to storm the Bastille. Economic injustice still remains in today’s world. Many third world countries still do battle with unjust systems and have to do daily battle with corrupt, greedy powerbrokers in power. The spectre of the Bastille still haunts many an unfortunate land…

As we are looking at France today, here is a poem by Paul Eluard:

The Deaf and Blind

Do we reach the sea with clocks
In our pockets, with the noise of the sea
In the sea, or are we the carriers
Of a purer and more silent water?

The water rubbing against our hands sharpens knives.
The warriors have found their weapons in the waves
And the sound of their blows is like
The rocks that smash the boats at night.

It is the storm and the thunder. Why not the silence
Of the flood, for we have dreamt within us
Space for the greatest silence and we breathe
Like the wind over terrible seas, like the wind

That creeps slowly over every horizon.

                                        Paul Eluard (14 December 1895 – 18 November 1952)

OBON FESTIVAL

“You are invited to the festival of this world and your life is blessed” - Rabindranath Tagore

Obon is one of the most important cultural traditions of the Japanese. It is a Buddhist festival and is traditionally a period of praying for the repose of the souls of one’s ancestors. Prayers are said especially for anyone who has died in the previous year as it is believed that they need more guidance to find their way. People believe that their ancestors’ spirits come back to their homes to be reunited with their family during Obon.

Obon is an important family gathering time and many people return to the place they were born or where their family resides. Traditionally, Obon was originally celebrated around the 15th day of the seventh month of the lunar calendar. However, with the introduction of the Western solar calendar to Japan, Obon periods are nowadays different in various regions of Japan. In most regions, Obon is celebrated around August 15th on the solar calendar. It starts from August 13th and ends on 16th. In some areas in Tokyo, Obon is celebrated around July 15th on the solar calendar, and it is still celebrated on the 15th day of the seventh month of the lunar calendar in many areas in Okinawa.

The festival was started in the 7th century although many of the events have changed and it is one of the most significant and enjoyable of the Japanese festivals. It goes by a variety of names, the most popular of which is “The Festival of the Dead”. People clean their houses and offer a variety of food such as vegetables and fruits to the spirits of ancestors in front of the butsudan (Buddhist family altar). The butsudan is decorated with flowers and chouchin (paper lanterns). On the 13th, chouchin are lit inside houses, and people go to their family’s graves to call their ancestors’ spirits back home. This custom is called mukaebon. In some regions, fires called mukaebi are lit at the entrances to homes to guide the ancestors’ spirits.

On the 16th, People bring the ancestors’ spirits back to graves, hanging chouchin painted with the family crest to guide the ancestors’ spirits. This is called okuribon. In some regions, fires called okuribi are lit at entrances of homes to send the ancestors’ spirits away. During Obon, the air in houses and cemeteries in Japan are filled with the smell of incense called senko. Toro Nagashi (floating paper lanterns) is a custom often held during Obon. On the evening of the 15th, people send off ancestors’ spirits with a paper lantern inside which is a lit candle. The lanterns are floated down a river to the ocean.

Bon odori (folk dances) are customary during Obon. The kind of dance varies from area to area. People wearing yukata (summer kimono) go to the neighbourhood bon odori hall and dance around a yagura stage. Anyone can participate in bon odori, and everyone is invited to join the circle of dancers and imitate what others are doing. Usually, taiko drums keep the rhythms in bon odori.

MOVIE MONDAY - FIRST KNIGHT

“I believe that imagination is stronger than knowledge - myth is more potent than history - dreams are more powerful than facts - hope always triumphs over experience - laughter is the cure for grief - love is stronger than death” – Robert Fulghum

We watched Jerry Zucker’s 1995 film “First Knight” at the weekend. I had already seen it once when it was first released and I remember that I had not liked it much then. However, we had it given to us on a Bluray disc so we watched it. I must say that I was pleasantly surprised, as not only it did not grate, but it was quite entertaining. The picture quality was stunning and the sound magnificent, and this time round I did not concentrate too much on the departure from the “standard” Arthurian legends, nor did pay too much attention to the daggy costumes. The film was entertaining because of the restrained performances, the good dialogue and the winsome actors.

The first thing to say to the detractors of the film (including me many years ago!) is that the Arthurian legends are simply that – legends! There is no historical King Arthur, nor is there a Merlin or Morgan le Fay or a Mordred or an Excalibur! So if a film does not follow the “legend” it is not a departure from history, it is an interpretation, an alternative story, a retelling, if you like. This particular film does not have an ounce of the supernatural in it and as such, appears more authentic than the “usual” Arthur legends. There is a good action story behind it all and it feels more like a historical romance than a grandiose blockbuster epic reworking of a legend. However, despite the romantic story, there is action in and battle scenes and swordfights…

The story concerns an ageing King Arthur who is just returning to Camelot after having won some battles and is looking forward to a content “retirement”, deciding to marry Lady Guinevere of Lyonesse, the neighbouring kingdom. Lancelot is an orphaned young man who lives by the sword, fighting for money with his swordmanship, which he has honed to a fine entertaining art. Lady Guinevere, on her way to marry King Arthur is ambushed by the evil Sir Malagant, a fallen knight of the Round table who now wishes to subjugate both Camelot and Lyonesse, as well as making away with Guinevere. In the ambush Guinevere is captured by Malagant’s men and Lancelot who chances to be in the forest, rescues her. They fall in love, but Guinevere is honourable and sees in Arthur not only a noble a husband, but also a protector for her beloved Lyonesse. Lancelot and Guinevere part, but only temporarily because Lancelot turns up in Camelot on her wedding day and earns the right of a kiss, which he gallantly foregoes and makes a friend of Arthur. Many more adventures follow in which Malagant, Arthur and Lancelot feature prominently. Who will win the heart of Guinevere in the end?

The movie is filled with incident and there are some gorgeous landscapes. My favourite is the view of Lyonesse with a windmill in the foreground which looks like an old Flemish painting, with due credit to Adam Greenberg, the cinematographer. Camelot is rendered nicely, although looking rather fake and I have already mentioned the shortcomings of the costumes. The music is suitably rousing and tender as befits the scene but one expects that of a Jerry Goldsmith score. Jerry Zucker does a good job with directing this movie, considering his forte is really comedy (“Flying High”, “The Naked Gun”, “Ruthless People”, etc).

Overall, the movie was more enjoyable this second time around and I am glad that I gave it a second chance. If you are a purist and seek a true to the legend Arthur, this film is not for you. Rather it is a good “film inspired by” the Arthurian legends and should please both boys and girls...

ART SUNDAY - LUSHPIN

“I am essentially a painter of the kind of still life composition that communicates a sense of tranquillity and privacy, moods which I have always valued above all else.” – Giorgio Morandi

When I was younger I really detested modern abstract painting. For example, Jackson Pollock and his “Blue Poles” or Kasimir Malevich’s pathetic and insulting “Black Square”.  I still dislike most of it, but have developed a liking for some abstract art that generates some sort of positive emotional response, rather than a negative one of abhorrence, anger or bamboozlement. On the other hand, I dislike modern pretty paintings of most realists that comes under the umbrella of “kitch” or “kiss-me-pretty” type of art. You know the kind that Thomas Kinkade glorifies in and is a Christmas-card perfect, saccharine-sweet and pastel-coloured view of the world.

I am still to be convinced about some artists that dabble in neo-realism, but in any case one has to wonder at their technical expertise and wonderful rendition of the world in glorious, technicolour photorealism. Generally, their paintings sell well and they sell at a pretty price too. Admittedly, given the choice I would rather a photorealist painting rather than an abstract one. They are less obtrusive and jar one’s senses less... I typically prefer my art more painterly, more expressionistic, more emotional and sensuous painting that grips one and draws one into the canvas.

For Art Sunday today, a photorealist who started out with a sense of painting in an academic style that was almost surrealistic in its realism and who in his later world has begun to approach the commercialism of Kincade. It is Evgeny Lushpin, who was born in Moscow in 1966. He graduated from Art-graphic department MGPU and Stroganov Moscow State University of Arts. Lushpin’s work follows the traditions of representational art of both Russian and West European pictorial art. Virtuosity and technical excellence in handling the medium, a good sense of color and form, and good composition are all found in his art.

Lately Lushpin paints landscapes and cityscapes, which he paints in a realistic manner that can err into the prettification and idealism of a plastic kitch universe. The dramatic lighting of sunset or dvanced twilight is a favourite of his, with contrasting blues and yellow-oranges of natural failing light and artificial light. His works are popular and can be found in many private collections in the USA, Europe and Russia.

Above is a painting of his that I really like. A study of bottles and other stock “still life” items that have been assembled together to highlight the painter’s skill in handling colour, composition and supreme mastery of his medium. This a calming work that can have a Zen-like effect on one’s consciousness. It dates from 1999.

On the other hand, here you can find a painting of his that I don’t find particularly appealing and is typical of his later work: The Kincade-like cityscape of dramatic lighting and saccharine sweetness of his “Evening Journey”. The jury is still out on Mr Lushpin…

SONG SATURDAY - BERLIOZ

“Death is a delightful hiding place for weary men.” – Herodotus

A delicious song from Song Saturday from the pen of Hector Berlioz, being inspired by William Shaekespeare. It is “La Mort d’ Ophélie” – Ophelia’s Death, his opus 18/2, sung perfectly by Cecilia Bartoli and accompanied faultlessly and sensitively by Myung-Whun Chung on the piano.





“There is a willow grows aslant a brook,
That shows his hoar leaves in the glassy stream;
There with fantastic garlands did she come
Of crow-flowers, nettles, daisies, and long purples
That liberal shepherds give a grosser name,
But our cold maids do dead men's fingers call them:
There, on the pendent boughs her coronet weeds
Clambering to hang, an envious sliver broke;
When down her weedy trophies and herself
Fell in the weeping brook. Her clothes spread wide;
And, mermaid-like, awhile they bore her up:
Which time she chanted snatches of old tunes;
As one incapable of her own distress,
Or like a creature native and indued
Unto that element: but long it could not be
Till that her garments, heavy with their drink,
Pull'd the poor wretch from her melodious lay
To muddy death…”

WARM HOMEMADE BREAD

“Good bread is the most fundamentally satisfying of all foods; good bread with fresh butter, the greatest of feasts!” - James Beard

I love the smell of fresh bread baking in the oven and there’s nothing like having a slice of it hot out of the oven with lashings of butter melting over it. Fortunately, nowadays we have the convenience of dried yeast, warm places for it to rise even on the coldest winter day and a reliable oven that will bake it evenly and thoroughly. The following recipe is one we use often and it is remarkably easy to make this bread, even without using any machinery, mixers, bread makers and the like.

EASY BREAD

Ingredients
•    Melted butter, for greasing and brushing
•    250g plain white flour
•    250g plain wholemeal flour
•    2 tsp (7g/1 sachet) dried yeast
•    1.5 tsp salt
•    375mls (1 1/2 cups) lukewarm water
•    ½ cup oil
•    Extra water, for brushing
•    1 tsp poppy seeds, for sprinkling (optional)

Method
1.    Brush a 10 x 20cm loaf pan with the melted butter to lightly grease. Measure all your ingredients.
2.    Place the plain flour, yeast and salt in a large bowl and mix well to combine. Make a well in the centre and add the lukewarm water and oil to the dry ingredients and mix well.
3.    Turn the dough onto a lightly floured surface and knead for 8-10 minutes or until smooth and elastic.
4.    Shape the dough into a ball. Brush a large bowl with the melted butter to grease. Place the dough into the bowl and turn it over to lightly coat the dough surface with the butter. Cover the bowl with a damp tea towel and then place it in a warm, draught-free place to allow the dough to rise.
5.    Leave the dough to prove until it is double its size, between 45-75 minutes at 30˚C. When the dough is ready, it will retain a finger imprint when lightly pressed.
6.    Once the dough has doubled in size, punch it down in the centre with your fist and knead on a lightly floured surface again for 2-3 minutes or until smooth and elastic and returned to its original size.
7.    Preheat oven to 200°C.
8.    Divide the dough into 2 equal portions and shape each into a smooth round. Place the portions of dough side by side in the greased loaf pan. Brush lightly with the melted butter. Stand the pan in a warm, draught-free place, as before, for about 30 minutes or until the dough has risen about 1cm about the top of the pan.
9.    Gently brush the loaf with a little water and then sprinkle with the poppy seeds if desired. Bake in preheated oven for 30 minutes or until golden and cooked through.
10.    Turn the loaf immediately onto a wire rack and allow to cool.
11.    Once cool, store the loaf in a well-ventilated place at room temperature.

KNOWLEDGE & WISDOM...

“History is philosophy teaching by examples.” - Thucydides

I am preparing seven lectures that I shall record for our online learning students. I had forgotten the greatly stimulating intellectual activity this is, since I took up my new job exactly two-and-a-half years ago. As my work currently involves no actual teaching but more higher adminstrative, strategic and executive duties, it is rather refreshing to be invited to do these lectures. However, the problem is that I am continuing with all of my other tasks while preparing these lectures, which as is usual with me I have left till the last minute. Nevertheless, the lectures will be done and done well, even if they are got ready at the eleventh hour.

The subject is the historical development of medicine worldwide with the views of healing and health to be placed into social and philosophical context. It is a fascinating subject and my lectures look at two distinct periods: Prehistory to 3,000 BC worldwide for two lectures, and then the remaining five lectures on the development of Western medicine from its origins in Mesopotamia and Egypt to the 18th century. I am trying to make these lectures as engaging as possible and include much visual material as well as “case studies” illustrating how people lived, got sick and got better (or not!). My colleagues are preparing and delivering the remaining lectures that look at ancient China, India, Australasia and Europe from the 19th century until now. It will be a wonderful coverage and a good introduction to the students’ study of health.

One problem that constantly besets an educator is how to cover enormous quantities of material in the short time allowed for teaching. One has to be broad and all-encompassing, while at the same brief and germane. It takes a special skill to omit much and still keep the essential in what one present to students. One must stimulate and engage, tease and lead, interest and pique curiosity so that the student is tempted to go and read more afterwards. The job of the teacher is stimulate the students’ mind and to light the fire of the thirst for knowledge. Learning then becomes the job of the student.

While preparing these lectures, I am lost in byways of peripheral material that I read for my own interest, become fascinated by tangential information and learn much myself. How much there is discover, to learn and enjoy, while teaching others! I became fascinated by the prehistory and history of the Americas and learned much about the Inuit, the Amerindians, the Olmecs, Mayas, Aztecs and Incas. It is surprising how similar views of health and disease are worldwide when one goes back to several thousand years before today.

The slow development of supernatural ideas into empiricism, to philosophical considerations to the scientific approach is quite intriguing and the way the different cultures have coped with these changing perspectives at quite different rates is worthy of great study. The more one investigates a topic the more one learns the more one realizes the truth behind Socrates’ famous dictum: “I know nothing except the fact of my ignorance.”



Knowledge is easy enough to acquire if one has time and expends some of this time in active study. The trouble is to learn enough and be able to use it with one’s experience, soundness of action, and good judgment so that is becomes wisdom…

knowledge |ˈnälij| noun
1 Facts, information, and skills acquired by a person through experience or education; the theoretical or practical understanding of a subject: A thirst for knowledge | Her considerable knowledge of antiques.
• What is known in a particular field or in total; facts and information: The transmission of knowledge.
• Philosophy True, justified belief; certain understanding, as opposed to opinion.
2 Awareness or familiarity gained by experience of a fact or situation: The program had been developed without his knowledge | He denied all knowledge of the overnight incidents.
adjective
Relating to organised information stored electronically or digitally: The knowledge economy.
PHRASES
come to one’s knowledge: Become known to one.
To ( the best of) my knowledge 1 so far as I know. 2 as I know for certain.
ORIGIN: Middle English (originally as a verb in the sense [acknowledge, recognise,] later as a noun): from an Old English compound based on cnāwan [recognize, identify] of Germanic origin; from an Indo-European root shared by Latin (g)noscere, Greek gignōskein.

WINTER TWILIGHT

“A man’s age is something impressive, it sums up his life: maturity reached slowly and against many obstacles, illnesses cured, griefs and despairs overcome, and unconscious risks taken; maturity formed through so many desires, hopes, regrets, forgotten things, loves. A man’s age represents a fine cargo of experiences and memories.” - Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

A family friend is well into her 80s and lives alone. She has a son, but he has his own family and lives in another suburb, although he and his family visit her often. We often drop in too, as do some other of her other friends. In the last few months she is getting more forgetful, confuses words and may be in the early stages of dementia. Her health is otherwise good, but what a difference the decline of the brain makes on the ability to live a rich and fulfilling life. I think if ever I were to become demented I would want a rapid end as it would not be me anymore. If the brain deteriorates, then everything is over, what makes us a unique and individual person disappears. This poem is written for her on this wintry night…

Winter Twilight

A grey afternoon and leaden sky
Dies down into silvery twilight,
As the sun slips away in the west
And the last ray tinged with green, flashes.

My room dark, cold and empty
Waiting for night with resignation,
While I touch familiar things
Searching for reassurance.

Silence as the road becomes deserted
The birds long since roosted for the night.
The ticking of a clock, a rustle of wind,
My mind turning over thoughts restlessly.

The cloudy sky covers moon and stars
And kills all hopeful signs of morning.
The light still out, I watch the darkness
Creep around me, night falling hard.

Winter is long and harsh this year,
Spring thoughts hard to conjure up,
As years weigh heavily on my back
And warmth is only found by the fireside...

TO BIKE OR NOT TO BIKE?

“Get a bicycle. You will not regret it if you live.” - Mark Twain

I was going to work this morning and was nearly run down by a bicycle that was careening down the footpath. As readers of this blog know, I go to work early and at 7:00 am it is still dark. This fellow on the bike not only did not have his light on, but he also did not wear a helmet, was wearing dark clothing and was using the footpath to ride on even though there was perfectly good bicycle lane on the side of the road. As if to add insult to injury he started cursing me as he rode away (still on the footpath). Well I was clearly in the wrong, wasn’t I? Here I was, a pedestrian on the footpath getting in the way of a mad cyclist with no headlight who was riding like a bat out of hell on the footpath…

I am all for encouraging bicycle use in the city and I applaud all those people who are conscientious enough to be environmentally aware and use a bike instead of a car or public transport. When I was living in Holland, I used a bicycle constantly and it was a very efficient mode of transport (it’s great for keeping fit too!). However, lately the cyclists of Melbourne are getting very aggressive and uppity. Firstly, they need to wear the latest slinky gear (not always of high visibility) and ride race cycles that cost a small fortune and are not suited to commuter use. Secondly they have this “holier-than-thou” attitude that immediately turns me off and I am tempted to tell them that I ride a V8 fuel-guzzling tank to work and down the milk bar to buy milk instead of walking (well, I don’t, but I feel like inflaming their sensibilities). Thirdly, they so often break the law: Riding in the dark without adequate head- and tail-lights or reflective clothing; without a helmet; against red lights; on footpaths; abusing pedestrians, etc, etc.

I have yet to observe a police officer stopping a cyclist and giving them a ticket, although I have witnessed cyclists doing silly things on city streets in full view of traffic police. No doubt, cyclists also get tickets and fines, but I am not aware of any cyclist who has been fined. Some of my colleagues at work and some family friends regularly ride bicycles and I am glad to say that they are safe riders. So yes, there are good, law-abiding and safe cyclists out there. However, there are also the morons that give bicycle riding a bad name.

One may ask me, why don’t you ride a bicycle in Melbourne since you rode one in Holland? Well, I would, if I thought it was safe to do so. I am extremely wary of even thinking about riding a bicycle, as the car and truck drivers on Melbourne roads are not bicycle aware. Getting on a bicycle and confronting traffic at peak hour is taking your life into your own hands. There are some bike lanes on streets, but they are frequently obstructed or not well marked, or not observed by cars. One hears so frequently of cyclists getting struck down, injured or killed. In my previous job, a colleague was injured seriously when struck down by a truck who had not “seen him”.

So where does the solution to the problem lie? The state should ensure that bike riders are safe on our streets. Having safe and highly visible bicycle lanes is the way the Dutch have solved this problem. Cycling in Holland is both safe and enjoyable. Better road rules as they relate to cycling should be legislated and their enforcement carried out strictly. Cyclists should be licensed perhaps, in a similar way that car drivers and motorcyclists are licensed. Safe riding of bicycles should be enforced by traffic police and hefty fines should be given to law breakers. These and more measures in a similar vein would not only encourage more people to use bicycles, but it would also make it safer for cyclists and other road users to ride and drive on our roads. Not to mention walking in footpaths!

My views on cycling, approximate Elizabeth West’s when she says: “When man invented the bicycle he reached the peak of his attainments. Here was a machine of precision and balance for the convenience of man. And (unlike subsequent inventions for man’s convenience) the more he used it, the fitter his body became. Here, for once, was a product of man’s brain that was entirely beneficial to those who used it, and of no harm or irritation to others. Progress should have stopped when man invented the bicycle.”

Well, a touch of hyperbole never hurt anybody!

MOVIE MONDAY - DREAMCATCHER

“If time be of all things the most precious, wasting time must be the greatest prodigality.” - Benjamin Franklin

We watched a really trashy movie at the weekend and I can’t make up my mind whether it was a complete waste of time or whether we were entertained. I’d be inclined to say the former… The film was the 2003 Lawrence Kasdan adaptation of Stephen King’s “Dreamcatcher”. If you know nothing about this book or movie, it is an odd bird, part thriller, part sci-fi, part fantasy, part drama, part I-don’t-know-what. Although the production values are typically Hollywood and one can see that a lot of money was spent on the movie, the basic storyline is bilge that has been trawled up from the depths of bathos.

The title relates to the Ojibway American Indian tradition, who would tie sinew strands in a web around a small round or tear-shaped frame and hang this “dreamcatcher” as a charm to protect sleeping children from nightmares. Their legend relates that the bad dreams will get caught in the web, while good dreams will pass through it. Traditionally, Native American dreamcatchers are small (only a few centimetres across) and made of bent wood and sinew string with a feather hanging from the netting. Nowadays, they are made larger, with sturdier string and more decorations, obviously meant to last longer and appeal to the market.

The significance of the dreamcatcher in the film is obscure but trust me, that is not the only thing that is obscure. There is much pop culture and urban myth wound up in the plot but also lots of contemporary (colourful) language and the recurrent SSDD acronym that (innocent me) had to look up (not having read the novel). The acronym sets the tone for the movie and stands for “Same Shit Different Day”. Wow, that’s deep!

The plot centres on four childhood friends, Jonesy, Pete, Beaver and Henry who are now grown up and have kept close because of a special power they share – they can read minds. Once a year, they go on a hunting trip to the Jefferson Tract in winter. They find a sick man wandering through the forest in the middle of a blizzard. The man has red marks on his face and a bloated belly. And then the aliens come in! The man is harbouring an alien life form in his innards. A paramilitary force led by a slightly crazy veteran soldier (Morgan Freeman! How did he ever sign up for this movie) attempts to quarantine the area. It runs out that this commander has long experience with alien invasions and will stop at nothing to destroy the aliens (even kill a few hundred or thousands of civilians if he must). The four friends have to stop the aliens and the mad commander before they die themselves. Oh, and there is Duddits who is an intellectually disabled child with special powers who has a special bond with the four friends. Will they save the world and destroy the aliens? You have three guesses!

The alien life forms are quite horrid things with a complex life-cycle, but they are egg laying and go through a nasty larval phase with the adult forms not looking terribly beautiful either. This is a B grade (maybe F grade?) movie, which we nevertheless watched to the end. However, it left a bad aftertaste in ones mouth and yes, it was a bit of a waste of time. Watch only if you are really desperate…

FRANCIS DAVIS MILLET FOR INDEPENDENCE DAY

“Freedom is nothing but a chance to be better.” - Albert Camus

Happy Fourth of July to my American friends and readers of this blog in the USA. Seeing it is the Independence Day of the USA, I have chosen an American artist for this Art Sunday: Francis Davis Millet (1846-1912) who was born at Mattapoisett, Massachusetts, on the 3rd of November 1846. He was a drummer boy with the Union forces in the Civil War and he graduated from Harvard College in 1869. In 1871 Millet entered the Royal Academy of Fine Arts, Antwerp, where he studied under Van Lerius and De Keyser. In 1873 he was made secretary of the Massachusetts commission to the Vienna Exposition. During the Russo-Turkish War of 1877-78 he was correspondent of the London “Daily News” and “Graphic”, and of the New York Herald.

On his return he was made a member from the United States of the International Art Jury at the Paris Exposition of 1878. He was director of decorations at the Columbian Exposition, Chicago, 1893, and in 1898 he went to Manila as war correspondent for “The Times” and for “Harper’s Weekly”. In 1880 he became a member of the Society of American Artists, and in 1885 was elected to full membership in the National Academy of Design, New York, and was for one term its vice-president. He also became a member of the American Water Color Society and of the Institute of Painters in Oil Colours, London.

As a decorative artist his work may be seen at Trinity Church, Boston; the Bank of Pittsburgh; and the Capitol at St Paul, Minnesota. His pictures are in many public collections: among them are: “A Cosy Corner” in the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York; “At the Inn” in the Union League Club, New York; and “Between Two Fires” in the Tate Gallery, London. He also wrote essays and short stories, and an English version of Tolstoy's “Sebastopol” (1887); and among his publications are “The Danube” (1891), Capillary Crime and Other Stories (1892), and “Expedition to the Philippines” (1899).

Francis Davis Millet was lost on the Titanic in 1912, where he valiantly tried to save the lives of as many of his fellow passengers as he could. He gave his own life preserver to another passenger.

Millet’s paintings are typical of the Academic style and he handles paint with studiousness while his draughtsmanship is meticulous. His themes are historical, genre paintings, and sometimes portraits. He often makes a humorous or wry comment with his subjects and overall he has been accused of being the maker of “too pretty a picture”. Nevertheless, he handles light well and there is a delicacy in his work that delights many. The painting above is his “At the Inn”, which is typical of his style.

LIBERTANGO

“Dance till the stars come down from the rafters
Dance, Dance, Dance till you drop.” - W.H. Auden

Another difficult and busy week is over and thankfully the weekend is here. A lovely night tonight with candlelight, lovely food and music and then a warm embrace. What else could sum it all up except Astor Piazzola’s “Libertango”?

A SIMPLE DISH

“Winter is the time for comfort, for good food and warmth, for the touch of a friendly hand and for a talk beside the fire:  it is the time for home.” - Edith Sitwell

Another wintry, cold and rainy day in Melbourne today. It is good to see the rain falling down and the garden looking soaked. Our spring bulbs have started to sprout and soon they will start to bud. The rose bushes have all been pruned and the trees are all bare, except for the citrus trees that are laden with ripening fruit. We have two lemon trees, an orange tree, a grapefruit tree and a very young mandarin tree not yet fruiting. Except for this mandarin tree, the rest are laden with fruit and we have been enjoying them at the table or freshly squeezed as a mixed citrus juice which is delicious.

One of the easiest dishes to make, but also one of the most tasty and nutritious, is clear broth. Although it serves as a basic ingredient in all sorts of dishes, for example, stews and risottos, it is in its own right a perfect supper. A bowl of broth will warm you in the winter, refresh you in the summer, heal you if you are feeling unwell and nourish you if you are hungry. It is perfect year round if you’re on a diet.

BEEF BROTH
Ingredients
 
•    4 litres of water
•    1.5 kg of beef, either shanks, short plate, short ribs, or brisket (gravy beef is fine too).
•    A large piece of spongy bone, or a joint, split
•    A chicken carcass
•    3 sticks of celery with leaves (or a celery heart)
•    2 carrots
•    2 onions
•    5 pepper corns
•    2 cloves
•    Salt to taste (add at the end, and I do mean add it to taste!)
•    Finely chopped parsley and/or chives, and/or thinly sliced mushrooms for garnish

Method
Meat from older animals is better because it has more flavour, and the beef should not be too lean. A piece of spongy bone, or a joint, split, enriches the taste and nutritive value of the broth, although it also makes it greasier.

Start with cold water and add the meat, vegetables, and seasonings (minus the salt) to the water at the same time. Heat the pot over a high flame until the broth comes to a boil, and then turn the heat down. Simmer the broth for a couple of hours, or until a fork easily penetrates the meat. Add the salt and check the seasoning, strain the broth, let it cool, and remove the fat that rises to the surface (the best way to do this is to chill the broth and remove the congealed fat with a fork). Use the broth to make other soups, risotto, and other dishes, or serve it by itself. We are having this for dinner tonight, accompanied by toasted bread and a light dry red wine.

The meat can be used as a boiled dinner, or made into meatballs. However, the long boiling does tend to extract its nutrients and taste. The vegetables tend to disintegrate, and the bones of course should be discarded (or everything fed to the dog!)

MEETING AND TEAM BUILDING

“Being busy does not always mean real work. The object of all work is production or accomplishment and to either of these ends there must be forethought, system, planning, intelligence, and honest purpose, as well as perspiration. Seeming to do is not doing.” - Thomas Alva Edison

I was in Brisbane today for a second series of meetings and once again, although a very tiring day, it achieved much. There was a great deal of team building, as well as resolution of a number of issues that we identified as important and causing quite a few stresses within the organisation. The weather here was not as good as I expected it. Usually, a Brisbane winter is relatively warm and dry compared to Melbourne, but when I arrived yesterday it was pouring and quite cold. I had taken the airtrain from the airport to the City (much more sensible than taking a cab as the traffic is terrible especially during peak hour), so in order to walk the 500 m or so from the station to work I steeled myself to get soaked. Fortunately just out of the station my eye caught a second-hand shop and thankfully I was able to buy an umbrella for the magnificent sum of one dollar! It got me to work nice and dry…

One of the peculiarities of working in Brisbane is that I have to lodge myself on a “hot desk”, which is always a little disconcerting as I like having my “things” around me. At least I was at a nice quiet spot today in between the meetings. I wanted to meet many more staff members than I finally got to meet, but unfortunately, that is the way things usually pan out. One plans much on the agenda but some things take twice as long to wrap up than one plans for…

There is a lot to be said about multitasking. I have always been able to do this quite successfully, but I have some colleagues who are very focussed and can only do one thing at a time. I must say that unless I multitasked, I would never be able to get through the amount of work that I do. I sometimes wish I had another pair or two of hands, which would increase my productivity even further!

Another type of colleague is the one who always seems to be busy, is rushing hither and thither, but on analysis doesn’t seem to accomplish much. I have some of my staff on performance management as they seem to be poor planners, have no time management skills and fumble away but don’t get much done.

Tomorrow, back in Melbourne I have a series of implementation meetings and a whole clutch of emails that I did not manage to answer today. No doubt there will be some correspondence for me on my desk. At least the weekend is only two days away…

team spirit (noun)
Feelings of camaraderie among the members of a group, enabling them to cooperate and work well together.
ORIGIN: Old English tēam [team of draft animals,] of Germanic origin; related to German Zaumducere ‘bridle,’ also to ‘teem’ and ‘tow’, from an Indo-European root shared by Latin ‘to lead.’ + Middle English : from Anglo-Norman French, from Latin spiritus ‘breath, spirit,’ from spirare ‘breathe.

AN AUTUMNAL DIRGE

“Hard work spotlights the character of people:  some turn up their sleeves, some turn up their noses, and some don't turn up at all.” - Sam Ewing

I am in Brisbane today and tomorrow and for work and it has been an extremely busy day, even more so tomorrow. Today more than any other previous occasion it was a case of functioning as a team with my fellow directors and enjoying that special connectivity that can occur if a team of compatible people get together and work on a common goal. There was a palpable feeling of collaboration and teamwork in the room today and the best analogy I could use was a well run relay race where the baton was passed faultlessly from one person to another.

The poem for today is by Tsuboi Shigeji. He was an influential modern Japanese poet. Tsuboi was born on the island of Shodoshima and studied briefly at Waseda University in Tokyo, but he never graduated. He started as a modernist  and anarchist, but as Marximsm grew stronger in Japan, he broke up with the anarchists and started to work for the proletarian movement, writing short political prose pieces and being an active organiser. He was imprisoned twice; for the second time he was imprisoned with other left-wing writers and tortured until he renounced his right to publish anti-government works.

This action of the government was intended to discredit the whole movement. He went home to recuperate from his ill treatment in prison. Later Tsuboi returned from the country in despair, feeling as a traitor (he wrote about it in his poems Self-portrait, Mask, and Criminal). He spent the of the war years in Tokyo, inactive apart from forming Sancho kurabu (Sancho Panza Club), writing short humorous prose pieces with hidden anti-war messages. After the war he helped to form two magazines, Shin nihon bungaku (New Japanese literature) and Gendai shi (Contemporary poetry) and wrote one of his most popular collections of poetry, Fusen (Air-balloon, 1957). In 1962 he joined a half dozen other left-wing writers to found the journal Shijin kaigi (Poets' Conference), dedicated to helping workers, male and female, express their dissatisfaction s about the status quo. His wife was the popular Japanese novelist Sakae Tsuboi.

Star and Dead leaves

A star was talking with the withered leaves
In the still midnight.
Only the wind stirred round me then.
Strangely forlorn,
I tried to share their words.
The star swooped from the heavens.
I searched among dead leaves
But could not ever find it.

                              Tsuboi Shigeji (1889-1975)

SCHRÖDINGER'S CAT AND DUALISM. OY, OY, OY!

“Physics is imagination in a straight jacket.” - John Moffat

After fixing my computer problems today (it’s handy having a good computer shop with full technical support across the road from work!), I’m back and ready to roll again! I’m rather sorry I missed Movie Monday yesterday, so I’ll do my film review today as we watched an interesting film at the weekend. It was the 2009 Coen Brothers film “A Serious Man” with Michael Stuhlbarg, Richard Kind, Fred Melamed and Sari Lennick.

To enjoy the film fully, one should be aware of several things: Firstly, the Old Testament Book of Job. It relates the story of Job, his trials and tribulations at the hands of the Devil, while he is being tried by God, his discussions with friends on the origins and nature of his suffering, his challenge to God, and finally a response from God. The book addresses the problem of evil and suffering in the world, trying to reconcile this with the existence of God.

Secondly, one should be aware of the paradox stated by Schrödinger to illustrate the bizarre nature of quantum mechanics. It concerns a cat that is placed in a box with a “diabolical mechanism” that could cause the death of the cat depending on a random event, such as the disintegration of a radioactive nucleus. Schrödinger’s cat in the sealed box remains both alive and dead (as far as the universe outside the box is concerned) until the box is opened.

Thirdly, one should be aware of the concept of dualism, in its variety of interpretations. For example, the yin and yang that symbolises the duality in nature and all things in the Taoist religion. Or moral dualism, which is the belief of the great complement (in eastern and naturalistic religions) or conflict (in western religions) between the benevolent and the malignant. Most religious systems have some form of moral dualism - in western religions, for instance, a conflict between good and evil. In the philosophy of mind, dualism is any of a narrow variety of views about the relationship between mind and matter, which claims that mind and matter are two ontologically separate categories; etc.

Lastly, familiarity with the Hebrew language, Jewish religion and culture would certainly add an extra dimension to the film.

The film opens with a curious wintry vignette in 19th century Middle-Europe, where a Jewish man who has just come home converses with his wife regarding someone who helped him fix his cart. It turns out that the man who helped him has been dead for two years (or has he?). This is an illustration of Schrödinger’s cat and when the “ghost” comes knocking on their door to partake of the soup the husband has promised him, the wife does her “diabolical experiment” in order to prove the man is ghost and therefore evil. This sets the scene for the whole movie, which, however, takes place in 1960s American suburbia.

Larry Gopnick is a physics professor who is struggling to get tenure. He has a wife who has just announced to him that she will leave him for his best friend, two teenage children, a daughter who steals money from him to save up and get a nose job and a son who smokes dope and is terrorised by a bully at school. Add to that an uncle who has problems with a dripping cyst and is unemployed, and gambling and possible worse… There is a sexy neighbour who sunbathes in the nude and tempts Larry and as well as that, a Korean student who bribes Larry so that he won’t fail him.

The film is black tragicomedy and it examines in modern-day dress the trials of Larry (Job), who is attempting to maintain his faith in God amongst all the vicissitudes of life that he has to deal with. There are some wonderful scenes where the humour is subtle but quite cutting, a couple where one may laugh out loud, but also a few poignant ones. Man’s powerlessness in the face of adversity and his dependence of faith is examined, while the consideration of sin and its consequences is also explored.

I wouldn’t call this the Coen Brothers best film, but perhaps it’s the most ambitious. It is directed with verve and the cinematography is good. The atmosphere of the 1960s is well executed and the acting is excellent. One of the weak points of the movie may be seen to be the end, however, given the duality theme and the uncertainty principle exemplified by Schrödinger’s cat, the end is in keeping with the film.

I would recommend it if you are after a more cerebral comedy and if you like philosophising! Otherwise, if you want slapstick, watch the Three Stooges.

COMPUTER PROBLEMS

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