I don’t post much about Flossy’s interests like I did with Sol. I’m not sure if this is gender bias or a second child been-there-done-that attitude. So to address this problem, here is Flossy’s current favourite song The Wiggles, Shimmy Shake in which they do a rather amusing Beatles tribute.
Flossy really loves dancing to all kinds of music and has a good sense of rhythm.
During my Christmas shopping last year, I came across a three-book set from Puffin Classics books called The Adventure Collection. It includes Treasure Island, Wind in the Willows and The Adventures of Tom Sawyer. I thought I might give them to one of my relatives but when it came to wrapping, I couldn’t decide who would appreciate them most and ended up just keeping them for myself.
The books are paperback and feature some nice cover art which you can see here
I’m currently reading Treasure Island and thoroughly enjoying it as I knew I would. There is something about Stevenson’s writing style that is beautiful and gripping. It’s the way he describes his scenes using just a few words to evoke senses so that you feel immersed in the story. This immersion means that when the evil blind Pew is tap tap tapping ever closer to our hiding Hawkins we feel a real sense of peril. But Stevenson doesn’t over do it with melodrama, on the contrary, Hawkins’ narration seems to underplay things. As Hawkins lies stiff with fear in the bottom of an apple barrel, he simply states that he was filled with a mighty dread and dared not move (or something like that), there are no descriptions of heart beating so loudly he thought they might hear it and sweat dripping or stomach churning etc though you sort of insert all that stuff yourself because you’re right there with him.
I first encountered Stevenson’s writing when I read The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde a few years ago. I thought that with all the adaptations and retellings of this story that I might be a bit bored by it but that was not the case and if you haven’t read it, I strongly recommend it simply because it has inspired so much other literature. And after you’ve read it, go and watch Stephen Moffat’s mini-series Jekyll because it is also awesome.
In the back of my copy of Jekyll and Hyde is an incomplete story of Stevenson’s called Weir of Hermiston which is also great (but frustrating because it breaks off and you really want to know what happens)
So I’m enjoying Treasure Island (yo ho ho and a bottle of rum) which according to the preface is the prototype of all our pirate-y fiction even to this day (arrr). I feel I will be well versed in pirate lore by the time of this years talk like a pirate day.
In the meantime, I’m off to find out how little Jim Hawkins survives his sea journey with Long John Silver and his treacherous crew on board the Hispaniola. Remember, X marks the spot.
A link in my twitter feed led me to these podcasts by Courtney Brown, a lecturer at Emory University. The first podcast is a series on Music and Politics and the second is a series on Science Fiction and Politics (I advise that you don’t read any further on the page if you have a maths phobia). I’ve listened to the first lectures for each series and found myself being inspired by Courtney Brown and his enthusiasm for academia.
In the introduction to the Science Fiction series, he speaks about the privilege of being paid to sit and think and write. He speaks about the way new ideas and research shapes the next stage of society (I suppose you’d call that an ideology based around progress) and he speaks about how each generation eventually gets to take the reigns from the previous and that being an academic you can become the intellectual resource that your generation relies on to shape society.
He also in this first podcast shared a bit about his own journey into academia and how science fiction played a role in inspiring him with some ideas that he built upon. The science fiction he was referring to was Isaac Asimov’s Foundation trilogy and specifically the use of non-linear mathematics to predict radical changes in society. He talked about how when he published his thesis, he managed to get in contact with Isaac Asimov to thank him for his inspiration.
Last week I blogged about how I feel I am in a position to be thinking about doing something new and I mentioned academia has been on my mind on and off for the last few years, especially as I seem to know a lot of academics. I also had a bit of a confluence with this thinking as I hit an article online which was about sorting out your career and the importance of knowing what you are actually trying to achieve with your work. In the past I’ve had grand plans and other times I’ve thought I just want to earn the cash I need to keep things ticking along but when I really think about it more deeply, I have returned again and again to the idea of study and then chickened out because of the commitment both financial and temporal.
So I’m thinking it might be time to reenrol in that aborted theology degree with a long term goal of attaining a post graduate degree and if I find I have some aptitude, maybe going for the big-P-little-h-big-D. I think it would anchor me a bit in life to have a long term goal other than to have food on the table.
The reason I’m saying theology is that I’ve already done a few semesters of it and I’m interested in it, I think it’s an interesting blend of history, philosophy and art. I would probably try and team it up with something like anthropology or cultural studies at a later stage because I tend to approach it from that angle anyway – I’m not so much interested in the Big Answers as in the factors that affect the way people answer those questions and how they play out in different contexts.
So I’ve put out a call on twitter and I’m repeating it here: any academics out there, I’d like to hear your stories on what inspired you to become an academic, what got you through and the path that you took. Also any comments on how it’s all just hollow paper pushing and soul destroying boredom would be acceptable but keep in mind that I want to be talked into it, not out of it. Also fringe benefits such as being able to work from home in your pyjamas should be listed.
Thanks in advance.
Sol and I went to the Circus Royale today which was at the Sale showgrounds under a rather hot and humid big top. After a getting lost on the way and having to phone my boss to get directions (because he’s one of the few locals I know who can tell me where stuff is) we arrived, picked up our tickets, walked past the jumping castle and rotating clowns head game and entered the dark noisy tent. Once in our seats we had a good look around, the big top was about a quarter full and there were not many people coming in, a few families grabbing popcorn and drinks at the kiosk.
The show started with some floor acrobatics and continued with a series of acts which roughly alternated between animals and acrobats. There was very little dialogue apart from introducing the acts as they came on. There were about nine performers and the animals included geese, cows, ponies, horses, camels, lamas and a poodle in approximately that order.
Some may recall that last year, Sol and I saw Ashton’s Circus which had the “wheel of death”. I was disappointed that Circus Royale didn’t have this but they did have a boy acrobat genius who did some cool stuff on a trapeze and the lady from “Scandinavia” who swung about on a rope and kind of jumped off it only to catch herself with her ankles but it was well done because she gave a rather convincing scream during some of the stunts which made you think she was going to fall. She also had a pretty rocking soundtrack but I couldn’t pick the band, could have been early Faith No More.
After seeing Ashton’s last year, I did some poking around online and found some articles about how circuses are in decline, partly due to animal protection activists. I was looking at the animals at this circus carefully: they seemed well fed and groomed to me and I find it hard to rationalise that they might be happier standing under a tree in a paddock. On the other hand, they are subjected to the God-aweful sound system during the shows which just about drew blood from my ears so I can’t imagine that the animals have any hearing left at all. But seriously, I don’t know what to think on this issue.
Other observations about the circus: the women were pretty buxom: no skinny waifs on the trapeze yet they were obviously fit and toned – not what movies and TV would choose to show us. The performers were all from overseas and especially South America: Argentina and Brazil and then the animal trainer from NZ and a trapeze-ist from “Scandinavia” (It’s like me saying All the way from the pacific region, the amazing Matt Smith!). As per the article on dwindling circus culture in Australia, the troupe was quite small: only nine performers and a handful of supporting staff: a sound guy, lighting guy, a couple of runners, some people on the doors and in the ticket booth and a few people running the side shows. As noted before, the crowd was pretty sparse, I would have thought the afternoon session on a Saturday would be a big one but maybe they do better at nights or maybe it is just that there is not the population in this area to get a big crowd at anything.
After the stomach churning man in a bottle act, the performers took their final bows and we filed out of the sweating big top into the roasting afternoon heat and Sol gave me his thoughts on the show. He was pretty impressed with the contortionist because he liked his clothes and he also enjoyed the clown. The highlight for him was when the clown threw a giant beach ball into the audience and it went over his head. So circus organisers take note: for young kids, forget about training specialist trapeze artists, animals trainers and other performers, just buy a big beach ball and throw it around and they’ll be just as happy.
As for me, apart from some of the things I’ve picked on above, I really enjoy live performance when I can get to it and especially when it’s people doing stuff that I can’t imagine to begin attempting myself. It’s one thing to watch world class performers on TV or to see really polished acts but I am attracted to this kind of show because it’s raw and completely depends on the direct connection between performer and audience. In this small venue I was close enough to see sequins falling from the costumes as the performers leapt about in the tent and to hear the ropes creaking and even smell the animals. It does really sadden me to think that this kind of show could die out.
I’m walking to the car with a new acquaintance the other day who as he turns to lock the door of his successful and growing business comments that he doesn’t know what he wants to do with his life. I would assume that someone who has “made it” as far as I can tell, who has the wife and kids and house and car and boat and successful business and friends all over town feels he still doesn’t know what to do with his life. Which makes me wonder, when can you say you’re done, that you’ve done or are doing life? Is there some point where you reach the peak and think Well it doesn’t get any better than this, I’d better head back down. I worry that for me I’ve already been to that place and didn’t know it at the time.
Still, forcing an optimistic outlook, I’m wondering what to do with my life. Self help books often ask as a decision making exercise, if money wasn’t an issue, what would you do and I say, well I wouldn’t work, I’d travel the world in my yacht and private jet throwing Gatsbyesque parties and maybe develop a cocaine habit before spiralling into a pit of despairing existential crisis and ending it all in a high speed motor accident.
Then I think I’d do exactly what I’m doing, I’d enjoy my family, not work too hard but put in a fair effort between eight and five doing some kind of programming gig. Change jobs when it got boring and enjoy a bit of music and science fiction in my spare time.
Other times I think about a fictional writing career or academic career or I think about becoming a teacher so I can have a stable job but have more time to do something really experimental in my spare time like build giant fire breathing robots that eat cars.
I do feel that I am at a junction right now, a point where I can start something new having shuffled the deck as they say and sorted out most of the logistic issues associated with that shuffling, I can use the time I have now to take a wander down some of these other paths until I can poke my head around the corner and maybe catch a glimpse of whether there is anything for me further along.
Sol seemed pretty concerned that she was suffering relative nakedness compared to her more securely clothed companions such as Obi Wan Kenobi whos Jedi robes are glued on tightly over his painted on trousers. When I asked him why he thought Leia had removable clothing he replied that perhaps it was Jabba’s fault because Jabba took all her clothes away in Return of the Jedi. He really had no idea about her hair but we all share that confusion.
Anyway, I thought it was interesting as it represents the first known instance of a Star Wars action figure barbie doll crossover that I’ve seen. Maybe someone who understands these cultural phenomena can enlighten me as to what is going on here? Should I be exposing my son to such things or is it all good for his sexuality (which like it or not is already developing). Oh well, at least it’s not the gold bikini action figure.
Reading back I’ve been a bit negative on the blog posts of late and that is because we have been in a pretty low mood with homesickness and boredom and second guessing ourselves even though we’ve had lots to be happy about as well.
I may have already mentioned we’ve sent Sol to a state school due to the modified prep offering and our feeling about his readiness for institutional education. Part of this decision was when we enrolled him in a private school and after talking to his would be prep teacher who eventually admitted to us that if Sol was his own kid, he would put him in the modified prep at the state school.
The main issue is not intellectual capacity but his ability to socialise. At a very young age, the differences of even half a year can be much bigger than when they get older. In the prep class at the private school, he was noticeably physically smaller and physically behind the other kids. This would have led to him being left behind by his peers a lot which could detract from his feeling like he truly belongs in the class. With the modified prep class, he is amongst smaller kids and kids who are not as socially advanced so he has a better chance to be heard and to get amongst it rather than being pushed to the back seat.
So we’re really happy and relieved that he has loved every day of his school experience so far and is taking it all in his (small but growing) stride. He is already bonding with his teacher and getting to know the other kids. He is obviously an introvert but he gets a lot out of being with the other kids and loves to interact with them when he’s in his comfort zone.
The only down side is that we have less time now to work on The Adventures of Flossy and Sol but we hope to still hold to a production schedule of one episode a month.
The other day I completely didn’t notice that Smithology went through a significant milestone, its third anniversary. That’s right, I started this blog three years ago on the 6th of February 2007 with a simple Hello World post. A couple of weeks later I received my first deeply thoughtful comment from Captain Wumpy Pants, author of The China Times blog.
When I started the blog, I had great ambitions and ideas about how I would win over the internet with my astounding brilliance and I feel I’ve been building up to the great breakthrough which will come any day now so I want to thank my loyal readers and commenters, especially all you people with Stupid Dell Broadcom Internal NICs. Here’s to another three years!
After about four months I’ve finally finished crawling my way through The Algebraist by Iain M. Banks. Not that it was a bad book or particularly long – I suppose 690 pages is longer than average but more that I have been so dog tired at night with the kids staying up due to daylight savings and all the business that goes with moving interstate that I’ve only been reading an average of a couple of hours a week which is just not enough.
I’ve read a few of Iain Banks’ novels now and I remain ambivalent about his story telling. By all rights I should be really enthused: his stories have some really cool settings and memorable characters, there is humour and sometimes deeper reflection on the human condition. Yet, I never seem to click with his stories, there is a certain bleakness and coldness that always pushes me away. Maybe it’s the way he almost predictably kills off the most loveable characters just when you’re really digging them, or the way his bad guys seem to always be able to go the extra evil mile. Possibly it’s a matter of what I’m needing when I read – I’m looking for escape and mental stimulation but usually not looking to be confronted with the impartiality and inevitability of death.
But now that I’ve got that out of the way, there are some really fun aspects of The Algebraist that I’ll take away. The setting being mostly in the atmosphere of a gas giant (think Jupiter) is a challenge because the mental picture is just brownish yellowish gas, but Banks brings it to life with the floating cities, the specialised gas craft that populate it and the stars of the show: the Dwellers.
The Dwellers are big kind of floaty aliens that live in the gas giants. At first they are depicted as ancient and super advanced, living in slow time and only communicating with other species through seers whom they sponsor and train. As the book unfolds we get to know some of these Dwellers more closely and come know that there is a lot more to them than meets the eye – and that they are unexpectedly fun!
The journey into the world of the Dwellers is conducted through the main protagonist Fassin Taak. Fassin is charged with the task of finding a certain artefact amongst the Dwellers that will, if it even exists, be of immense value. At the same time a massive army led by the spectacularly evil Archimandrite Luseferous (warrior priest of the Starveling Cult of Leseum9 IV and effective ruler of one hundred and seventeen stellar systems, forty-plus inhabited planets, numerous significant artificial immobile habitats and many hundreds of thousands of civilian capital ships, Executive High Admiral of the Shroud Wing Squadron of the Four-Hundred-and-Sixty-Eighth Ambient Fleet(Det.) and once Triumvirate Rotational human/non-human Representative for the Cluster Epiphany Five at the Supreme Galactic Assembly) is approaching the Ulubis solar system (where the story takes place) bent on finding the same thing. This plot gives the story a kind of brooding race-against-time feeling as the dread lord comes closer and you can’t begin to imagine the nasty things he’s going to do when he arrives judging by the sport he engages in on the way.
During Fassin’s story we get a tour of the Ulubis system and some nice world building diversions as Banks lays out some pretty neat galactic history and galactic politics. There’s also a side story that made absolutely no sense to me and was possibly a whole other story that ended up being rolled into this novel for some reason (I’m talking about Saluus and Taince for those who’ve read the book already).
The final confrontation and wrap up of the book was pretty satisfying for me and not too over the top as these epic kinds of books often are.
I think I would have enjoyed this book a lot more if I’d read it in more concentrated doses so I could keep more of it in my head as I went. Now I am skimming bits of it I realise I forgot a lot of the stuff in the earlier chapters that are referred to towards the end.
Apart from my criticisms at the start of this post, on an overall view of things, this is a great read and worth looking at if you’re interested in getting a feel for Iain Banks before delving into his darker culture novels.
I suppose I owe my twitter and facebook friends an explanation for my random, generalised anti-Christian exclamations of late. I won’t go into it all too much as I’ve got to take responsibility for some things. I understand that churches usually have a large body of people who are comfortable and busy and just aren’t able to give the bare minimum of the time of day to newcomers – some of them are even so snowed under that all they can manage is a grunt when you’re introduced to them or try to strike up a conversation. I get that. I understand that people come to church with many different needs and can be pretty high maintenance to talk to: mental illness, intellectual disability, child protection issues – it makes sense that you should kind of ghettoise these people all together up the back with the new people who have arrived with young kids. That way you can ignore everyone at once. What really hurts is when people try to solve you like you’re a problem, when people try to “minister” to you, when people discuss you in a committee to try and decide what should be done about you. What really hurts is when people talk down to you and give you helpful advice on how to raise your kids and how to make friends. What really hurts is when those people then try to sign you up to the music and sunday school roster.
And they wonder why the pews seem to get a little emptier every year.
