Happy Christmas!

The weather has cooled, just in time for the strange ritual of eating a hot dinner in the middle of summer. A lot of us still do things upside down here and I know that my mother will have the whole shebang - roast turkey and ham and vegetables and a steaming home made pudding. Perfect for a winter climate, though perhaps a little eccentric in the southern hemishere.

Its a strange quiet day, when people stop doing what they normally do and indulge in excesses of eating and drinking, of bonhomie (false or otherwise) and piety. They greet people they normally wouldn't and spend hours in the company of those they can barely abide. I rather like it though.

Just a verse from Mr Betjeman to tail things off for the day. And perhaps, as a reminder....

'And is it true? And is it true
This most tremendous tale of all,
Seen in a stained-glass windows hue,
A Baby in an ox's stall?
The Maker of the stars and sea
Become a Child on earth for me?'

(from, Christmas)

Christmas and all that....

Christmas tomorrow. Today its an absolute stinker, pretty close to 40 degrees with strong westerlies chewing up any available cooler air. If anyone lights a match near the bush - well, there'll be trouble.

Last night we watched The Polar Express. I suppose we should have been forewarned by the fact that its a children's Christmas movie, but then, some of those are rather good, are they not. Yes, the special effects and animation were interesting for a while, but after that, the absence of a decent storyline or even moderately interesting characterisation had us yawning half way through. Really, a great opportunity missed because of a piss-poor script.

I love Christmas, but I do have a bone to pick with Claus. Here is a person who touts a philosophy of peace and goodwill to all, yet who flagrantly sides with the wealthy at Christmas time. You would think, given the capacity of this gentleman to travel worldwide in one night, and with an army of toy-making elves at his disposal, that he might do something about the imbalance between rich and poor on this one night of nights. But no, the rich get their expensive cars, jewellery and branded excess, whilst the poor settle for cheap plastic rubbish. Perhaps Mr Claus believes in trickle-down economics . Perhaps he is a tool of market forces.

But I have this to ask. Where's the level-playing field Claus? Where's the compassion? Where's the heart? Have a think about that next time you shove Rolex watches down the chimneys of Toorak and St Ives. Spare a thought next time you swan through the showrooms of Porsche or Ferrari in search of baubles for your mates at the big end of town....

Trouble at Yes

Yesterday we received the sad news that Lorraine's father had died. Lorraine is one of the teachers working for us at Yes in Sanda. She will come home this week and we will try to find a couple to replace her(and her husband Ian) by mid January, when the next term commences. They have done such a great job and are no doubt much loved by students there.

Finding good people is difficult. There are lots of people who have pretty good teaching skills, but who fall down in the managing a home and business department. And visa-versa, of course. And the Japanese really hate changes to teaching staff. No sooner have they gotten used to one group of foreigners, when a brand new group hove into view.

If worse comes to worse, and I hope that it doesn't, then I might have to jump on a plane and spend a few weeks in Sanda. I really don't want to leave Nadia at the moment - 5 and half months pregnant and all, and such a great time to be together.......

Something will come along, I'm sure.

Not more football....

Afraid so. With a World Cup only six or so months away and Australia and Japan in the same group, is there anything else to talk about? I've just joined a soccer forum here:

http://forums.soccerfansnetwork.com/

and have made a few tentative postings under the pseudnym, wakarahen. As I told a Japanese friend, that's because I don't know anything at all. Football's a passionate business and some of the posters get very het up over their teams and the opinions of others. I replied to an American poster whose method seems to be to shout his views over the top of everyone else and then to accuse them of anti-Americanism if they dare to disagree or put another spin on the stats he presents. (Could this be George Bush in disguise?) No reply as yet.

Now to Group F. I don' t think that the top spot is in serious doubt. Even if Brazil aren't at their best in Europe, and who knows, they should still take first place without too much trouble. So Australia will fight it out with Croatia and Japan for the second spot. Sad to say, both of the latter have improved since the last World Cup (or so informed opinion says) and Australia is a little creakier, a little older. The wild card is Australia's new coach, Guus Hiddink, whose tactical mastery may be sufficient (if our team plays very well and we have some luck) to get us over the line. The other results in the group will be critical too and it will probably come down to last match against the (very good) Croatian team.

Hmmm interesting times ahead......

World Cup Draw 2006

So, we are together with Brazil, Croatia and my 'other' homeland, Japan. A very tough group indeed, perhaps the second toughest. We are having broadband mondai so I must be brief now. More later on this historic occasion........

Just Waffle

I've just started revising a little Japanese after two months of slacking off. I discovered at least one reason for my laziness - the grammar was starting to get much harder. Or perhaps I should say, there was just too much to remember. I guess I've reached a high beginner point in my written studies (though I still haven't learned Katakana) though my conversation is very much still at the beginner level. Really by the time you can reply 'This is the man who came to the party yesterday' (In romaji, 'Kino pati ni kita hito desu') the conversation has moved along somewhat. Having the modifying clause before the noun isn' t helpful either. I enjoy learning grammar but it's application is difficult, to say the least.

Nadia's tummy is getting bigger and bigger and there are still five months to go. We swim most days though the weather until recently has been lousy- the strangest spring and early summer I can remember. It' s getting hard to her to get comfortable in bed and this can only get worse, really. Poor thing!

The FIFA draw for Germany 2006 is on Friday, so we're getting a little excited. The US National Coach has caused a bit of a stir by saying that he expects Trinidad and Tobago and Australia to be the weak links. Methinks this man may be eating his words at a later time. If the US played quality opposition on a regular basis rather than lightweights from its own confederation, then its ranking may be somewhat different. Now Australia is in Asia, we should start to climb the ladder, if, for no other reason, than the fact that we will be playing more games against better teams.

On Thinking

I often wonder what it would be like to be dumb. Or I should say, not so bright. Hardly a day passes without some grim reminder of how intelligence, so highly prized in Western civilisation, is sometimes a burden.

Today, for example, I read that intelligence, or at least a lot of it, has a correlation with Parkinson's Disease. There seems also to be a link between braininess and depression. There is data that suggests that the more educated you become, the less happy you are.

Maybe all this will be turned on its head by future research, but the adage about the happy guy with his six pack and TV set seems somewhat true. Live simply, live happily, heh?

All this thinking! My mind is never still, always restless, twitching and shifting between considerations of the self (oh, please to be spared from these!) and the myriad problems of the world. Right and wrong, truth and beauty, life and death (one more dichotomy and you're sacked - ed) oh yes, and God, do the circuit of my mind daily.

But if I look up from the computer, through the window, and beyond the neighbour's roof, I can see an endless expanse of sky. Nobody has got around to changing that, just yet.

Not harping, just.....

I had a quick scan of the blogs yesterday concerning the now notorious case of Nyugen Van, and opinion seems pretty much divided. Perhaps this reflects the recent poll (SMH) that showed that 47% approved of the state execution of the young man, astonishing if you ask me. Approved of! So many rednecks still in my own country! And to think that even the conservative Prime Minister of this country opposes capital punishment! How he must rub his hands at the prospect of wooing all those ignoramuses.

One site in particular grabbed me. I won't give it the oxygen of publicity (to quote Mrs Thatcher) but it was located in Queensland (for US readers, think Arkansas, Tennesee etc.). The author seemed still lost in the Soviet era, as he proudly displayed some witless anti-communist propaganda, alongside the predictable diatribe in favour of death sentencing. This was nobly topped off with an attack on Christianity and then an appeal to the spirit of the Enlightenment. He seemed blissfully unaware of the superb contradictions, all within a breath of each other.

Perhaps I'm a little too ascerbic. But life and death are serious matters, are they not? And snuffing out a life in an opinion poll strikes me as seriously deficient behaviour.

So remember, (as I often remind myself) , 'There but for the grace of God go I'

Craziness Part 2

The death penalty was abolished in Australia in the mid 1960's, so many Australians have never confronted its unforgiving reality. This morning Nyugen Van was executed, for reasons related in my previous post. Its important, I think, that any debate about capital punishment be free of nationalist or racist arguments or imputations, so those opposing Nyugen's execution would be well advised to steer clear of attacks on Singapore. At some stage or other, most countries have practised execution as a legal punishment, so really, no one nation can have a clear conscience in this matter.

Proponents of Nyugen's slaying (surely, 'serving of sentence', -ed) have offered very little to justify themselves. Most stand behind glib maxims (such as 'You do the crime, you do the time') or point, somewhat unconvincingly, to the problems that drugs bring. The first is too stupid to really respond to (Nobody is arguing against 'doing time', just against state sanctioned murder). The second invites us to look at the drug problem as if it were as simple matter that a few bullet points could deal with. Kill the drug mules and you will stop the problem. (Perhaps the problem started when individuals decided to become drug users.) And, look at all the suffering. Well, of course, but the causes are far more complex that those offered, and are hardly solved by killing a few low level couriers.

The arguments are largely irrelevant anyway. Nobody has argued that drug mules shouldn't get a long time in prison. Nobody has argued that they shouldn't be punished. We are simply arguing that the death penalty is an immoral and outdated act. It deters no-one. It diminishes everyone. It makes the state equally criminal and perhaps more so, since the balance of power between the individual and thre machinery of legal systems is totally unequal. It is anti-human.

To cite the Bible again, 'Thou shalt not kill'.

Nyugen Van, Rest in Peace.

Capital Crimes

There has been a huge and somewhat divisive debate in Australia in recent weeks over the proposed hanging execution of Nguyen Tuong Van in Singapore, scheduled for tomorrow. Let me say at the outset that I am opposed to capital punishment per se.

The young man concerned was attempting to smuggle heroine into Australia and has been incarcerated for two years, pending the 'completion' of his sentence. Drugs like heroine are a curse and ruin the lives of many people. They decimate communities and create huge ripples of misery. They invariably lead to other acts of criminality.

Yet the taking of any life by any authority as a matter of justice is the purest act of hypocrisy. The crime committed is redoubled by the state, who are de facto accomplices. The state becomes the murderer. There is no justice, merely retribution, justified by lofty, though frequently mendacious claims of protecting the community, upholding standards, defending the weak...etc.... That citizens buy this comes as no surprise. Is it any different to being conned by the advertiser or lured by the glossy magazine. Is it little more than a matter of scale?

The final comment is best left to someone who was unjustly executed and who recognised the frailty of human judgement. Jesus, when confonted by an angry crowd who desired to put a woman to death for adultery, simply said. 'Let he who without sin cast the first stone.' Naturally there were no takers.

Capital punishment is wrong. State sanctioned killing is never justified.

Just One....

I don't think it hurts to include just one wedding snap here, do you? This is the bridal party at registration at the Leuralla amphitheatre on 26.11.05. Satoshi was the best man and Leila(Nadia's half-sister) was the bridesmaid. The witness is Nadia's schoolfriend and photographer, Vicky.

Marrying left your maiden name disused...

Flat but happy. I didnt think that getting married was such an exhausting affair. But it is, because if you don't have the expectations of others pressing on you, then you have your own. And sure enough, a thousand and one other matters, from the weather (important for us as the venue was outdoors) to who is picking up the flowers on the day (me, actually) impress upon the already stressed individual as the day looms.

But really, the whole thing went amazingly well. After days of rain and predictions (on the day, no less) of more rain, the sky cleared in the morning and clear skies prevailed throughout. The choir sang well, Nadia looked beautiful, my best man Satoshi( who flew in from Japan) was chuffed. The reception in the big top was fabulous and the band terrific (that's enough nauseating praise - ed.)

So we are married after seven years together. I'm happy to be married but I don't feel a lot different - yet. I guess there's a period of settling in. Maybe.

Swain Song

Last Sunday I sang with my choir , Crowd Around, at a concert 'up the road' at Katoomba. Ostensibly organised as a farewell to choral work for our former musical director, Janet Swain, the show involved our good selves and Janets Sydney based choir, Cantorium, in two individual sets followed by a combined effort/finale.

Crowd are renowned for snatching performance defeat from the jaws of rehearsal victory (gosh, that's awful!) but this time, we were actually very good. Better than Cantorium, I think, whose choice of songs were a little twee. On balance though, they probably have the stronger singing talent, so it must just have been our big heartedness(surely, incredibly good luck - ed.). Together, we fairly blasted the ball room of the Carrington Hotel into the main street.

Of course, its not a competition, but no choir likes to look weak amongst its peers. It was a personal challenge for me, since I was doing a solo on 'My Girl'. Learning the words was taxing enough, but making the delivery seem effortless and a little jazzy (remembering that white men can't jump) was doubly so. But I seemed to pull it off. Tabun.

Crowd have another gig this Saturday at which I am unable to perform though I will be in attendance. My wedding!

Kekkon no tameni

Well, our wedding looms. Only a week away now. We made the mistake today of each buying a set of paper plates for the party - strange that we should mix up such a thing. Just a misunderstanding.

We have an enlarged marquis for the back yard with additional seating, since so many people have accepted our invitation. I feel relaxed about the whole thing really. Theres not a lot more to do, and really I dont care if things dont get done.

Tom (he that is in utero) has been kicking quite a lot lately (no doubt in sympathy with the Socceroos!) and Nadia's tummy has been swelling in recent weeks. And she's only half way there!

On reflection, I'm a very lucky guy. I have a beautiful young partner, a baby on the way. I can work overseas when I want really and do pretty much what I like when in Australia. I have good friends, good health (okay, I'm a little bit of a nut-case) and sing in a great choir. I have a roof over my head that's paid for. How did I get here?

'Solving that question', as Phillip Larkin might have said, 'Brings the priest and the doctor/in their long coats/Running over the fields.'

Germany Ahoy!

For those who dont know (I suppose anyone not living in Australia), Australia have qualified for the World Cup in Germany next year. The night before last, we beat Uruguay 1-0 (4-2 on penalties) after one of the most harrowing matches I have ever watched. Truly, my heart raced and stomach twisted for the full 120 minutes, plus penalty shoot out.

The latter is surely a device that even the medieval inquisition would not have thought of. It's pure torture for the fans of both sides. But let me say how proud I am of the boys, of the effort produced against a good side under incredible pressure. And Guus Hiddink, the Dutch master! What can mere words say?

So the hoodoo of thirty years is gone, Australia is playing in Asia from next year (goodbye Oceania, and thanks for all the grief!) and we have the new A-League national competition. Things are looking up for the round ball! Your wish is granted, Johnny Warren!

By the way, hats off to Uruguay, who laboured the entire time with injuries to key players. They were worthy opponents. There's a spot in Oceania now if you like to take it, but really, it isnt to be recommended.

So, roll on next June and the clash of the 32!

The Last Place

Well, tonights the night when the final place for Germany 2006 is decided. All Australian soccer fans have been here before, usually to their bitter disappointment. Tonight is the rematch between Uruguay and the Socceroos - the first leg won by Uruguay 3 days ago in Montevideo, 1-0.

On home soil, Australia have a distinct advantage. A sell-out crowd at the Olympic Stadium in Sydney and a small deficit to make up. But Uruguay are the masters of the away draw and have the brilliant Recoba, well able to score from any situation. Getting a goal past the Uruguayan defence will be difficult and if the visitors score (say, on a breakaway), well, it may well be goodnight Germany.

I'm going to make a bold prediction. Tonight, the World Cup hoodoo of some thirty years will be lifted, any curses formerly made will be ended, and goals will flow......Maybe 5-0. Its not impossible and its certainly deserved.

Go Australia!!!

Self-Help from Self-help

Browsing in a bookshop the other day, I noticed the extraordinary number of so called self help books in stock. In fact, they seem almost limitless and spill over into a number of categories, such as health, fitness, parenting, money, to name but a few. Its almost as if anyone who had a problem or difficult situation, and who has resolved it(or thinks they have), feels the need to write about it.

Worse, most of it is re-cycled bunk or shamelessly re-worded versions of things that everyone has always known but thought was too obvious to put down in words. One striking similarity of the least reputable works is their affection for numbers. One writer felt there were seven ways that you could achieve financial independence (Step 7. Return this book and get a refund), another that there were six steps to a healthier you. Similarly, the ten habits of super successful people (#8 Always lift the toilet seat). The three essentials of raising a bright child(#1 Check parenting stock) sat somewhat cheekily next to the five ways of discovering the inner child.

Its sad and scandalous really, because amid this self-raising dross are a few gems written by genuine professionals who know what they are talking about. The penchant for numbers I can't explain, except to suggest that people have grown so lazy and publishers so cynical that anything promising relief or easy return in less than ten steps has become a good weeze.

You know what they say....if it's too good to be true......... Then again, maybe there's a book in that somewhere......

Mikoshi Madness

When in Japan, we live about 40 minutes from Sasayama, a very traditional Japanese town. Now and then we get asked to do silly things, like being the token foreigner carrying the mikoshi in the October festival. In case you're wondering, the mikoshi is a heavy thing, made almost entirely of sturdy wooden beams and bearing, if you look closely, four children in the central carriage. Actually, its not so heavy with 20 or so men are bearing the load, but one's shoulder tends to get a little sore with the constant rubbing and mikoshi acrobatics.

Well, lots of sake and parading later, this is a snap of our team from the Minami-Shinmachi district on the way home. Tannoshikatta!

Senoritas and Mad Hatters

Australia is in the midst of a discussion about new proposed anti-terror laws, which, as I have noted earlier, will give police and security organisations more power to detain (without charge) persons 'suspected' (by whom, on what grounds?) of being involved in terrorist activity. All this without any real judicial oversight and with any number of implications for media organisations and the freedom of the press. To note merely one of the more idiotic aspects of the proposed legislation, a young person detained by authorities may tell one of his or her parents. That parent may NOT tell the other parent, on pain of imprisonment. Charming.

I'm of the opinion that democracy is about proscribing the powers of the authorities, especially those that are essentially an arm of government, that do its bidding. Giving cops and spooks extra powers is rarely a good idea given their generally dismal performance. But I guess this makes life just a little kushier for them. Now they wont even have to gather information or investigate, just form some half-assed hunch about who might might be a terrorist of fellow-traveller.

I see a few threats to Australia's security, but unfortunately mostly these are elected representatives who no doubt have more than covered themselves by drafting the new laws. Suspect number one, the Prime Minister, whose reckless foreign adventurism at the behest of his American masters has made Australia a greater target for terrorists. Take a bow, you arch hypocrite.

Grunge Boy

I had a birthday a week or so ago (no, you may not ask!), and, being underwhelmed with pressies (not a problem, you understand), I went out and bought a cheap electric guitar and a heavily discounted distortion pedal/box. Yes, the weddings coming up and everything and there's not much left in the kittie, but I've wanted to play electric for a long time now. Even though I'm really just a chronic strummer, there's something at least moderately pleasant about about making a lot of noise (there is nothing pleasant! - downwind neighbour). Maybe one day I'll even learn to do something a little fancy, though I'm somewhat of a clutz.

As for the wedding, well, as best I can see, it's set just to happen, if you get my drift. Various things like a marquee and a band are booked and will be payed for, the guests are invited and responding, I have a shirt and trousers and Nadia's dress is under (top secret) construction. The ceremony is minimalist, there will be few formalities, the guests are bringing the food and drink. What is there to worry about? Apparently a lot, because the word wedding conjures up for many people the thought of endless lists of things to do, from the bridesmaids presents to the table decorations. Ha! Not for us!

Though these could be famous last words.......

Deja Vu?

As a long-suffering football (soccer in this country) fan, the moment of truth has once again rolled around. And with a savage predictability.

As a kid, I watched our national team play every home game prior to our one and only appearance in the World Cup Finals in Munich in 1974. In those days, the Australian team comprised mostly foreign born players of second or third tier ability. The team these days is home grown (ironically most of the players play in Europe) and is a vastly superior side to the one I used to watch.

Unhappily, FIFA has always made our qualification path a difficult one. In recent preliminary series, Australia has had to first win its own confederation(admittedly a cakewalk), then play the fifth placed South American team. The latter is a big ask. As anyone knows, the South Americans are very good at soccer and their fifth-placed teams are invariably top quality sides.

Once again, the adversary is Uruguay. Reportedly better than the team which beat Australia 3-1 on aggregate four years ago, the Uruguyans are full of confidence. My own feeling is that the Australian team is defensively weaker than its counterpart of 2001, but has a better coach. The latter may be critical. Guus Hiddink is a master tactician, but will this be enough to salvage the precious victory?

I have been at this crossing so many times over the last 20 years. Maybe this time.......hmmm...

Favourites

Someone recently asked me what my favourite ten poems were. I thought that this was probably an impossible question to answer - what I might have chosen as my top ten when I was twenty is likely to be somewhat different now. I have read a lot more in the intervening years.

Yet, some poems from that period would probably still find a place amongst my favourites today. I'm thinking of, say, Tennyson's Lotus-Eaters, which I still read now and then or Wordsworth's Preludes. My taste hasn't essentially changed in that time, though the Romantics are a little too much like rich Belgian chocolate for the kind of reading I used to do.

So what would I include in the top ten. Well, the first few places would go to Thomas Hardy (The Voice, The Journey, amongst others) , the next couple by Philip Larkin (The Whitsun Weddings, Church Going) with a space or two for the above-mentioned Romantics and Victorians. From Robert Frost, maybe After Apple Picking or The Road Not Taken. Aussie poets would be represented (on merit, not sentiment) by Slessor's Country Towns and Murray's The Widower in the Country. But really, there are so many individual standouts by poets whose names I cant even remember, that a list is pretty dishonest device.

Speaking of poems, I dashed off this haiku for my troubled cousin Lisa today. I had space on the back of the page of a letter I had written her, so, I thought I'd doodle something.

jasmine morning
a green bird's insistent arpeggio,
writing to my cousin


A poor effort, yes.

That Nobel Prize For Harold Pinter

The Garret.

(At the Pinter Garret in London)

(A doorbell sounds downstairs. Long pause)

(A doorbell sounds again. Another pause)

(Sound of ascending footsteps. Pause. A knock at the garret door. Pause)

Pinter: Come in.

(Pause) (Door opens to reveal dishevelled postie/tramp)

Postie: I've got something for you mister.

Pinter: Oh, yes.

Postie: I had to wait downstairs.

Pinter: Ah

Postie: I waited a long time.

Pinter: I see.

Postie: There's blacks in this neighbourhood.

(pause)

Postie: I've got this paper.

Pinter: You have a paper?

Postie: It's got foreign writing.

(Pause)

Postie: Never did like foreigners.

(Pause)

Postie: 'Neally wore out these shoes climbing them stairs.

Postie: Gotta have a good pair of shoes.

(Pause)

Postie: For me job.

Pinter: Oh, you work, do you?

Postie: I work. Course I work. I call it work.

(Pause)

Postie: Stands to reason that I work.

(Pause)

Pinter: I might have an opening here.

Postie: Didn't say I was looking for work.

Pinter: But you dont have a job?

Postie: Course I do. Maybe I'd like a change.

(Pause)

Pinter: What do you know about sheds?

Postie: Well, sheds, now, look mister, I'm not sure that sheds are my area.

Pinter: Didn't you say that you were builder?

Postie: I, well, now look here, I'm no builder.

Pinter: But you came up my stairs.

Postie: I'm not saying I couldnt knock something up. Gotta have the tools.

Pinter: Where are your tools?

(Pause)

Pinter: You don't have any tools, do you?

Postie: I've got tools. Lots of em. But you cant carry tools in this neighbourhood. Have you seen them blacks?

Pinter: How are you going to get on in the world?

Postie: I get on. I've got a good setup. Man 'round the corner gave me some shoes. Nice fit too.

(Pause)

Postie: Need good shoes for me job. (pause) I'm well set up. (pause) I've handled tools with the best of 'em. (pause) Got this paper here.

(pause)

Pinter: You're a complete imposter arent you?

Postie: What, who, me? Now look here...

Pinter: You come here pretending to be someone you're not.

Postie: I never said.

Pinter: You dont know a thing about shed contruction at all.

Postie: Well, sheds, look..

Pinter: You had better get out...

Postie: Well, I, what about the tiling...

Pinter: I don't need any tiling. I want you out of here.

Postie: Now look here. Promises were made. I climbed them stairs...

Pinter: You'd better get out now. (Pinter begins making the sound of a vacuum cleaner)

Postie: I've got this paper. (Over rising vacuum cleaner sounds) Promises made.....stairs....need new shoes.....them blacks......

(Exit terrified Postie pursued by pause)

Curtain.

Hi Q's and Laudanum

I've loved poetry all my life, a little strange since these days its a bit of a minority interest. I remember telling an amused friend that I sometimes used to spend the odd afternoon at a nearby park with a glass of wine and tatty version of the The Penguin Book of English Verse. At that time (senior high school) I was not a little in love with Keats and Coleridge (what a modernist, I!), a phase that took me a while to pass through. By uni I was reading Tennyson, a poet much out of favour, Shelley and Wordworth. Later tutors introduced us to Emerson and Whitman and I almost reached the 20th Century by the time I decided to drop English in favour of Theatre Studies.

As a high school teacher, I had little choice but to become acquainted with the modern era, especially Australian poets like Slessor, Dawe, Murray and Harwood. Wonderful poets all! And my own meanderings took me across time and geography to the likes of TS Eliot, Robert Frost and Thomas Hardy. I didnt even know Hardy wrote poetry! A seminal influence on my own verse (few as they are) was the British poet Philip Larkin, who quite reasonably argued that even modern verse could benefit by structure.

As an English teacher, I often had students (reluctantly) write poems from a range of structures and starting points, of which the haiku was one (Finally, you get to the point- ed.). I dont want to bang on about the properties of the haiku, only that, it is one of the most beautifully succinct ways of expressing a feeling or moment that I know. I leave you with this one by the 17th century poet, Taniguchi Buson, translated by Harold G. Henderson.

The piercing chill I feel
my dead wife's comb, in our bedroom,
under my heel.....

That Missing Dr Who Episode

Private Eye produced this cover the week after the September 11 attacks. Reactions were mixed - an inevitable few cancelled their subscriptions; others thought it an apt summary of the Bush Presidency.

A month later a Dr Who episode 'The Twin Towers' was mysteriously pulled from the airwaves before its first broadcast, but a fragment of the script survived........

(Tardis s/fx and appearance of same on board US Airforce One on September 11 2002)

(The Doctor and his assistant, played in a one off by Germaine Greer, exit the Tardis)

Dr: Well, we seem to have landed somewhere in the early 21st century. (Probing with sonic screw-driver) Hmmm, perhaps a jet airliner.
Greer: Lets hope that women are not as oppressed here as they were in the last episode. And honestly, did we have to land in a such a thing. Don't you know that this kind of craft is emblematic of the phallocentric situation. You're just like the rest of them....
Dr: Em, lets have a look around.

(The Dr and Greer explore the plane, finally arriving at the Presidential bedroom)

Dr: Well, well, someone important seems to use this plane. A private bed!
Greer: There's someone under the bed Doctor.
Dr: So there is. I say, why dont you come out?

(A sheepish looking GW Bush emerges from beneath the bed)

GWB: Are you terrorists come to take me away? I have to warn yowl, I have my finger on the newcular button.
Dr: My dear fellow, what are you talking about?
GWB: I command whole armies.
Dr: Yes yes, whatever you say.
GWB: Ma daddy is a rich and powerful man.
Greer: All fathers are rapists, dont you know.
Dr: Yes, but why are you hiding under the bed?
GWB: Look ahm talkin about freedom and choice and a strong America....

(End of script)

Wonder why that didn't get to air?

Our Band.....

About seven years ago Nadia and I decided we would like to play music together in public, so we formed a duet, called Kautilya. At that stage, we played pretty much only cover versions of artists like the Cranberries, Tori Amos, Fiona Apple, Mazzy Star and the Eurythmics, to name a few. Later the band grew into, well, a real band with a lead guitarist (my guitar playing leaves much to be desired), a violinist, a drummer and a keyboard player. Then we started writing songs, recorded a CD and did a few live gigs at acoustic clubs and music evenings. Currently we are in an interesting spot - where do we go next? There is a point where amateurs have to wonder at how big a commitment they can make to a shared project or even how far their skills can extend into the realm of public performance. Where do we get out of our depth? I don't know.

First Signs of Madness...

Another sad week for freedom in this country. All of our political leaders contrived to enact new "anti-terror"legislation that hits at some of the most fundamental legal traditions, such as the presumption of innocence. Another gem is the right of the authorities to arrest any person suspected of anything(presumably) to do with terrorism and to detain such persons for up to 12 days without charge. As I've said before, I take a dim view of any additional powers placed in the hands of the police or the secret services, never mind their high-minded justifications. Their dismal track records suggest that further abuses of power will be forthcoming.

I would have expected this kind of legislation from a government as mendacious as John Howard's, but the connivance of the state Labor premiers is doubling disturbing. Even the Federal Opposition leader, Kim Beazley (normally a man for whom I have a lot of time), seems to be involved in a strange bidding war to be the toughest bastard on the block. Could he really have proposed a strategy to 'lock down' entire suburbs in order to extract the so-called terrorist few? Well apparently yes.

Are we living in post-enlightenment age? Does the battle of those great thinkers have to be fought all over again? If combatting terrorism (whatever that multi-headed thing might be) involves rolling back the very freedoms that make democracy more attractive than the competition, then how far can societies go before they cease to be democratic?

Wrapped up in vinegar and brown paper

About 20 years ago I had a bit of a life crisis. My hairdresser told me that my hair was starting to thin, a shock for a man in his mid-twenties. I guess that my sense of self was pretty thin, or that I didnt have a good grasp of what was important in life. I suppose that I panicked and focussed on my hair, looking for the hard evidence. It seems a little foolish now, but things spun out of control and I fell, without knowing it, into an anxiety syndrome. Of course, I didnt find out about my affliction for over three years, largely because doctors thought I was just over-stressed and needed to relax. Thats exactly what I would like to have done.

To cut a long story short, an anxiety syndrome occurs when a person has a physical reaction, such as a churning stomach, palpitation or panic attack, usually as a result of a period of sustained stress or shock or such like. In my case, the anxiety manifested itself as a band of pain or tension around my head. Such an attack can often panic the sufferer into other similar attacks, until the very fear of these disturbing symptoms brings on more and more bewildering assaults. Fear creates an ongoing cycle.

A wise doctor that I saw some three years after I fell into this pattern recognised the syndrome and gave me a wonderful book, Self-Help for your Nerves by Dr Claire Weekes. Within a few months I was a lot better. I fact, the book saved my life and my gratitude to the late author is boundless. I still suffer occasional bouts of the syndrome, in fact, I am at the present. But I know, despite their debilitating nature, that I will come through.

To anybody who suffers from nervous illness, I recommend this book.

Idling Away

Like everywhere else, Australian TV is beset by an endless (do you really mean without end? ed.) procession of reality-style TV shows. I give most of them short shrift, though I confess to enjoying Australian Idol, probably because I like music, sing in a choir and can occasionally be found connected to an ipod.

I'm aware of all the arguments against such a "competition"; the focus on pop/rock, the competence of the judges, the flawed voting system, to name but a few. There' s no doubt that the supposed end product, a dynamic new young pop talent, can hardly justify the huge costs in production and personnel. But this isnt really about that objective. It's more about entertainment and pulling in advertising revenue, all the while hoping that an attractive talent will emerge at the end of the process.

Still, there's something a little compelling about it all. In the initial phases, of course, most of us, if we are honest, get a kick out of seeing so many people making fools of themselves. ("But I am a great singer. I'm gonna prove you wrong!")　I am always amazed at the lack of self-knowledge or the inflated self-opinion. Who is winding these people up, I wonder? Friends, family?

At the present, we are down to the last nine, meaning that we should be seeing performers who can sing well and have a stage presence, or at least, the makings of one. And by and large we do. Notwithstanding the often facile remarks of the judges (with the exception of Ms Hines) and the sometimes wayward voting patterns of a fickle public, there is some serious talent left in the competition. I'm not sure that I want to see or hear a packaged pop product at the end of it all, but I'm happy to sit through the process.

And by the way, my relationship with the ipod is strictly master/slave. It plays music at my command (supposing the batteries aren't flat) and it gets put away in a drawer like any other common item. It has not changed my life, it does not sleep with me, nor do I gaze at it in wonderment. It does the job well , though I imagine half a dozen similar mp3 devices do too. But the guff of an 'IT' obsessed media is the stuff of another blog.

Wholly family

Yesterday Nadia and I went to Nepean Hospital for her 12 week ultrasound. I suppose that we were both a little apprehensive. There are a lot of unpleasant stories and medical complications that seem to emerge from no-where when you begin researching pregnancy. So we were especially happy that the tiny baby was 1) actually there and 2) in very good health. I can't emphasize too much how utterly singular the experience is. No expecting father should miss it.

Today I took this photo of Nadia and Ruth, both wearing hats. Ruth is our 15 year old kelpie cross who just keeps going on and on. The day will come, we know, and sooner most probably. Until then she can amuse us with occasional burst of energy and silly photos. It's a wholly family of sorts, since I'm behind the lens and there really is a trio in front, if you think about it.

Ever Closer Onions

The rejection of the proposed EU Constitution by both France and Holland some two months ago is a blow for proponents of ever closer union. It must really be gaulling (surely, galling, ed.) for the French and especially the increasingly impotent Chirac. The French President must be particularly piqued that the rejection by his own country plays directly in the hands of the perfidious British, who have only ever wanted a loosely confederated EU with a more dynamic market orientation.

There are many things to admire about France. I could go on about the food, the countryside, the elevation of high culture, the great writers, musicians and philosophers for longer than most people could tolerate. I'm also rather fond of Tin-Tin. But the French share with the Americans a singular arrogance about themselves and a national pride well in excess of the facts on the ground. Its strange then that these two republics, born about the same time and saturated in a not dissimilar hubris, should be at each others throats these days. A clashing of two mighty egos.

To jump back a paragraph, the point I set out to make was the beautiful irony of the French 'non'. The Blair Government has been sweating on the upcoming referendum (over the EU Constitution) for some time now and must have realised the difficulty if gaining a British yes vote. The consequences of a 'no' would have most damaging to Britain's perceived place in Europe. So imagine the delight in Downing St and Whitehall at the French result. Political union is dead and the French are holding the smoking gun! Sacre bleu!

Rage from the grave

The memoirs of a former Federal Parliamentary Labor Leader have been set the media ablaze. Mark Latham headed the party at the previous Federal Election (2004), resigning three months later in a pique of recrimination, some of it, no doubt, brought on by ill health.

Latham was an interesting politician, candid, full of ideas and visions, if you like. But he was never really in control of himself, lacked discipline at critical junctures and seemed not, if reports are correct, to have been a team player.

At best, his memoirs seem ill judged and, if the adage about revenge is to be believed, has served his so-called opponents a very hot dish indeed. At worst it is a dummy spit of Olympian size, belittling both the man and his party and handing a free kick to the Government.

Biting the hand that has fed you is not an edifying site. Latham probably has some legitimate gripes about loyalty and performance, but this ungracious effort demonstrates one clear fact. He is a man who had no business trying to become Prime Minister.

Gadding On

Tomorrow Japan goes to the polls to elect a new parliament. If you're even a little interested in Japanese politics, I'd recommend any number of news sites (such as the BBC) if you'd like a summary of what its all about. As I've said before, I'm in the unusual position of hoping that the government of Junichiro Koisumi is re-elected. It's unusual because my politics is left of centre and the LDP is a conservative party. But Koisumi is the kind of political shaker who is getting Japan to reflect on its position in the world and the way things are done. I'm not usually in favour of privatisation, but there is a case for Japan's lumbering postal service to be shunted into the modern era. There is also a strong case for reforming the financial sector and the scandalous pork barrelling that occurs, with the open complicity of parliamentarians.

Yesterday I had my weekly Japanese class with Keiko san, and as usual I fumbled my way through an hour of broken Japanese. Keiko is fairly long-suffering in my estimation. I do try hard but the more I learn about Japanese grammar and usage, the more choice I have on how to say things, the more confused I get. I hanker for those simple days of sentences without relative clauses and in which one can use the polite -masu form of the verb. Now I have to contend with a dog's breakfast (inu no asa gohan) of verbal and adjectival conjugations, all competing for time in the ancient CPU that is my brain. All the while, I know that the next chapter of my textbook is harbouring yet another layer of difficult stuff. Yes, I am slowly getting better - I guess I'm somewhere around the level of a three year old now. And yes, it's fun to do and an intellectual challenge. I will stop complaining now.

Australia is about to be assailed by new draconian anti-terror laws which, amongst other things, allow a person to be detained, without charge, for up to 12 days upon the suspicion of the authorities. Now lets get this in perspective. It was the Howard Government that decided, against the wishes of a solid majority of Australians, to go to war with the US and Britain in Iraq. The central reason for this war was the alleged stockpile of WMD that Saddam had secreted from the UN weapons inspectors. There was very little real evidence for the existence of these weapons and considerable evidence that the intelligence agencies of the US and Britain were using dodgy sources to make their claims. The British Government was even claiming that these hallucinations could be readied for active use within 40 minutes. Critics at the time not only dismissed much of this 'evidence' as political spin, but also noted that the countries participating would increase, rather than decrease, their exposure to terrorism.

And so we have the Australian Government arguing, without the least shame, that because of the increased risk of terrorist assault, its citizens civil liberties must needs be proscribed. And who will enforce these new laws? Why, the very people who told us that there were weapons of mass destruction in Iraq, that there would be no greater terrorist threat as a result of the war and who continue to act as if they weren't so absolutely, bloody wrong.

Democracy may be the least worst from of human governance (Churchill, I think), but sometimes it throws up such mediocrities, such fools. It's hard not to cry.

Hildegard

Hildegard of Bingen was a 12th century Christian mystic who embraced a far more wholistic and embracing faith than what we often hear about today. The Earth as God's good creation was fundamental to her perception of how life should be lived. In a way, she is an ancient flagbearer for the environmental movement. She exhorts us to "meet each creature with grace", a radical idea for her time and one that still seems not to have penetrated human sensibilities.

The air,
blowing everywhere
serves all creatures.

Ever is the firmament its support

Ever is it held
carried,
by the power of God.

(from Hildegard of Bingen, Gabrielle Uhlein, Bear and Company, 1983)

The Religious Left

You hear a lot, in fact, far too much about the religious right, especially in America. But where is the religious left, the party of Jesus, if you like? I'm a little tired of the right's myopic political agendas. I'm even more tired of their conflation of issues like abortion, homosexuality, prayer in schools and the like with genuine religious principles.

Correct me if I'm wrong (no really, go ahead) but I can find precious little that Jesus had to say to about sex (yes, he told a prostitute that she should give it up), though I can find a great deal that he said about religious hypocrisy and cant. Religious leaders of his time copped a bit of stick, as we say here. Nor did he ever ask his followers to get involved in politics; rather, the opposite('Render unto Caesar...)

So where is the assembly of voices of the religious left? The voices that will talk about tolerance, compassion and love. The voices that will repeat the Sermon on the Mount as if it were a manifesto that can be acted upon here and now.

They are somewhere surely. Stand up and speak out against the dark punishers, the pious naysayers..........

Conservative shenanigans

Further to my last post, the politics of hate (surely, happy Liberal family, ed.) in conservative circles has been jollied along by the Federal Health Minister, Tony Abbott. With characteristic charm, Abbott weighed into the debate over the resignation and attempted suicide of state leader John Brogden with comments alluding to to the latter's 'political death.'

It emerges that the information that tipped off The Daily Telegraph came from persons within Brogden's own party, the chief suspects being creatures from the far right. This gaggle of nasties includes some, like Abbott, who profess to have a Christian leaning. I'm not sure which Christ or New Testament they have been looking at. Their behaviour and public comments suggest that a vicious bigotry is emerging in the Liberal Party that is seeking to influence policy in ways anathema to most Australians. It also call to mind the illiberal attitudes of the likes of Jerry Falwell and Pat Buchanan in the US. I don't think this kind of imported pseudo-Christian ethical babble will play well in Australia.

If things weren't bad enough for George Bush over Iraq (excuse me for jumping topic), then along comes a hurricane that has blown away his flimsy claim to be a great crisis manager. If only Bin Laden could release a video claiming responsibility for Katrina, then maybe he could slip off the hook.

Bush: The terrorists have seized control of the weather. And we have found secret weather-making stations in the heart of terror central. (Cut to map of Iran)

But somehow I don't think this will happen. May his ratings continue to tumble.

Catching up

Our broadband connection has been playing up this week, with unreliable and unpredictable connectivity. I guess that's technology...

We've had a wild week in local politics, by which I mean state politics. The leader of the conservative opposition party, the Liberal Party, resigned after allegations emerged that he had made racially dodgy remarks about the former Premier's wife. It was also alleged that on the same, somewhat beer-soaked evening, he chatted up a couple of female journos.

On the following evening, and apparently in response to newspaper headlines scheduled for the next day alleging further transgressions, the poor man tried to kill himself. He failed and is now in recuperation.

The role of the press in this matter has been the topic of hot debate today. To what extent should the fellow should have been let alone once he had resigned, rather than pursued with additional (unsubstantiated) allegations? How far should the media go in delving into the private life of public figures? Amid the collective hand-wringing today, there was a distinct wiff of hypocrisy in a number of media quarters.

But more on this later.......

Oranges

Nadia's pregnancy book ( a comic take on the subject by Kaz Cooke) says that the uterus in Week 10 is about the size of an orange. I find it hard to get my head around the idea of a cricket-ball- sized object squeezed into my lower abdomen or adjacent precincts, but then again, I'm just a man. I think I'll find it even harder once the object swells to the size of rock-melon, but as Nadia reminds me, it is she that is the subject of this unique invasion, not me. It doesn't stop me thinking about it, though.

Speaking of cricket (were you? - ed), the Ashes series has warmed up considerably since England won the second test. Given that Australia seems to win at every sport (except alas, soccer) I'm really hoping the Poms can carry off the series. In any event, the Australian team are a little too arrogant for my liking and a dose of losing can only do some good in the long run. And the game needs some other champions once and a while.

OBN

A couple of days ago our Prime Minister received the Order of the Brown Nose (surely, public service award - ed.) from the Woodrow Wilson International Centre for Scholars. Nothwithstanding our PM's outstanding achievements in the cause of American foreign policy, the fact that previous winners include Dick Cheney should be sufficient warning to future nominees. I'm not sure which Woodrow Wilson is alluded to in the organisation's title, but it surely could not be the same Woodrow Wilson who was an American President and, er, a Democrat. This Wilson of the same name was a fervent internationalist and a leading proponent of the League of Nations.

The current US President, George Bush sent his congratulations via video.

"John Howard is a great personal friend of mine and a supporter of the American Way er, sorry, the freedom of all peoples, and I ask him to report to my office at 9.30 tomorrow morning for further instructions, um, I mean, a cup of tea." (Video goes hazy, then blank)

Nice to know we have powerful friends.........

Pontiff Orstralis

The news that the Pope has announced Australia as the next venue for the World Catholic Youth Conference has sent the nation into a spin. The number crunchers aside, the more significant news was the Pontiff's remark that Australia was amongst those countries that are most desperately spiritually impoverished.

Its true that, to outsiders, Australians might court the image of being a nation of irreverent, sports-loving hedonists, but the truth may be quite different. The brash call-a-spade-spade Aussie seems to have a hidden world of potential spiritualities. Its just that we rarely like to talk about them. I was surprised by the candour of the many responses on a talk back radio program this evening to the question, 'Do you have an object that has special daily spiritual meaning for you?' It made we wonder about the assumptions I've made about my countrymen.

Its certainly true that established churches are emptier than ever; not a desirable outcome in my estimation. The moral relativism that has often ensued has been chaotic at best. Nor am I enamoured of the fashion for New Age therapies with their 'Me' obsessions. It's just that I think people here think more about God, and about matters relating to the meaning of life than they are prepared to admit or given credit for.

Loose Ends

After seven years together and a baby on the way, Nadia and I have finally decided to get married. Actually, we've been engaged since August of last year. Nadia returned to Japan from summer holidays and proposed to me at our favourite temple(see photo above). She had secretly bought a ring in Scotland. Well, was I surprised!! Apparently I couldn't speak for minutes on end........

So I've just made a booking for us to see a marriage celebrant. We won't be having the Big Wedding, for lots of reasons really. Why spend all that money? We hope to find a beautiful crop of rock bordering the national park for the ceremony, then have a party/reception back at Elaine's house. Elaine is Nadia's mum. I will hire a swish marquee for the back yard and we'll have a lot of fun and we will definitely not stand upon ceremony.

Anniversaries

VP day. I'm, thinking back 60 years to the sheer relief that the war was over. Newsreels of civilians massing in the streets, men dancing, unmitigated joy. I seems so much like a different age, almost a different planet. My mother was still in the UK, a teenage girl who had survived the Luftwaffe. The notorious bombs had been dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. The British Empire was finished. The American and Soviet domination had begun. It was a time of absolute change, of complete breaks.

Today I visited the blog of a Chinese university student. He had taken great pains to translate parts of his original Chinese blog into English, and pretty good English at that. He was a fairly typical kind of guy, enjoyed his studies, social life and looked forward to the future. One of his entries caught my attention, a demonstration against Japan by fellow students. The grievances were unspecified, but the protest looked big, aggressive and nationalistic. He described it as 'our lovely party' and I wondered whether something may have been muddied in translation.

Japan does have a lot to atone for with regard to the first half of the 20th Century. It pursued aggressive colonial policies from an early stage, invading and subduing Korea, then Manchuria, then South-East Asia during WW2. Most armies are violent and leave a trail of misery, but the Japanese Imperial Army seemed especially cruel and malevolent. It seems unlikely that Japan has ever asked why its army behaved so brutishly.

However, Japanese leaders, Prime Ministers and Emporers have repeatedly apologised for the damage and chaos caused during its colonial past. The apology was repeated today by the Japanese Prime Minister. But its clear that, unlike Germany, Japan has yet to find a way to sufficiently demonstrate its contrition to its former adversaries. Visits to war shrines by prominent leaders and ambigious history textbooks haven't helped the matter.

Having lived in Japan for two years and with the hope of returning soon, I have never found anything other kindness and fairness in my relationship with Japanese people. So its distressing for me, and probably many other foreigners who live there, that Japan seems to have been unable to deal properly and openly with its past. Perhaps this anniversary will start a debate, perhaps not.

Edyoocayshun

The debate over the best way of teaching reading continues in Australia. Educators elsewhere will be familiar with the 'whole language vs phonetics debate', which, for reasons best known to academics, have been acrimonious at times. Both systems seem to have their strengths and weakness and, as best I can work out, a skillful mix of the two has proven to be effective. Senior educational bureaucrats seem, however, to have had a Damascan moment. Apparently, phonetics is back on the agenda, probably for no better reason than the need to seem to be doing something new.

That's a pretty fundamental way of thinking in this country. If it isn't some concoction lifted from overseas, then its just a facelift for something that already exists and that already has a perfectly happy name, for heaven's sakes. Just like the tortured English that passes for Business English...but I dont want to get started on that!

Allied with this kind of thinking is the debate over English syllabi in my home state of NSW. About five years ago, a new syllabus introduced into high schools a far more ambitious project in learning and understanding English than before. Unfortunately, it imported most of the jargon associated with tertiary post-modern communication studies. So for author/playwright/poet/writer, read 'composer' and for reader, read 'responder'. That's just the tip of it.

Don't get me wrong. I had a lot of fun with post-modern studies at uni the second time around, but then, I had already completed a first degree in the traditional way. I had a grounding( a dangerous and delusional word as it implies that something is solid) already, so I could afford to learn the academic buzzwords and play the game. Its was interesting and challenging but in the end, I knew it was like a play and I was was giving a performance. And for a micro-second, even I, imagined that analysing the text that was, say, toilet graffiti, was as valid as analysing the text that is, say, King Lear. I know I'm exaggerating, but I'm sure you get my drift....

Cooking

It's not that I haven't been happy about my partner's pregnancy. I admit I've only alluded to it rather obliquely thus far. The reason is simple. The first trimester is the time in which things can go wrong - most commonly wrong, that is. I guess I'm holding back on unadulterated enthusiasm until around week 13. I'm cautious also because we almost certainly had a miscarriage in February.

But its Week 8 now and everything is going fine. Of course, Nadia feels queasy quite often and has lots of strange physical sensations. She is always tired. I try to be good at helping, though I am all the while aware of the fact that I am a bloke and blokes just don't get it. Apparently.

But I did have a minor triumph of sorts tonight. She ate three slices of home-made pizza and didn't feel sick!

Tomorrow its falls to me to book the marquee for our wedding and have a chat to a celebrant("I've got a wee poem that runs to 500 lines or so that I'd like you to include...").
More on that later.........

Lion Heart

Japan is going to the polls on September 11, in a classic act of Koizumism. I became a bit of a fan of the Japanese PM four years ago, in spite of the fact that he heads the LDP, a conservative party. I can only say that, despite my own centre-left instincts, something about the man, his ideas and his manner, grabbed me..

In the last four years he has struggled to drag a party beholden to special interests and business-as-usual (even when the means of conducting it have been discredited), into the modern era. By Japanese standards, he has been unorthodox and controversial. But the centrepiece of his reform agenda, the privatisation of the Japanese post office and allied services, was finally defeated in the parliament a week or so ago. Hence Koizumi's crash-through-or-crash poll.

I haven't always agreed with his agenda. I think the visits to Yasakuni were needlessly provocative, even if the principle was sound enough. I think he cozied up too close to Washington (though still mildly by comparison with the sycophants in the Australian Government) and should have pushed more firmly for an opening of Japan's highly-protected agricultural sector.

But this will be an election worth watching. Oh, I wish I was in Japan right now!

Eddi Reader

Last night a group of us went to see Eddi Reader at our intimate local venue, The Clarendon. Eddi has one of the best voices I've heard and she is passionately present during every song. She is a pretty eclectic artist and mixed ballads like 'Dolphins' with poems(set to music) by Robbie Burns. Her three piece band included long-time collaborator, Boo Hewerdine, whose slightly harder edge pieces provided contrast to the folkier elements of Eddi's repetoire. A great night!

As we emerged from The Clarendon, it was snowing! Yes, its winter, but its been warmer than average so the cold snap has come as a shock. But how beautiful to see cars covered in white and how sweet of my friends to make snow balls and hurl them at me!

I hinted before that we worked sometimes in Japan as English teachers. Of course, lots of people do that.

Here's a photo of Nadia and me last year in Kyoto. We were about to attend a special tea ceremony, and we took a stroll through the adjacent gardens. Sakura were in full bloom.

We both love Kyoto. Our best Japanese friend, Miwa, works at a nearby ryokan, or guesthouse. I guess that's what she was doing when this photo was taken.

And Again

I suppose I'm lucky to have time on my hands to go swimming or just hang out whenever I like. It hasn't always been so. I spent almost twenty years teaching in high schools and teaching was my life. Entirely. I think its great to have consuming passions but perhaps a little unhealthy to become obsessed by your work. I loved teaching but its good to have a life back. I'm not totally out of the loop - I still teach sometimes, though not in my own country.

Today I had one of those occassional computer meltdowns that seem much worse than they really are. Dozens of pages sprung open (no idea why) and, upon gaining control of the situation again, I found the hard drive had become, well, comatose. Didn't want to shut down. Didn't want to respond to any commands. All was well within 30 minutes or so, but the question is, what happened? I couldnt find any browser hijackers, dialers or related nepharios objects. Maybe I'll just put it down to quantum physics. Other people seem to.

I was saddened to hear about the untimely death of Robin Cook, former UK Foreign Minister. It's rare to find political leaders who put principle before their own careers, but Mr Cook was just such a man. For those who don't know, he resigned from the Cabinet in 2003 in protest at his Government's decision to join the Coaltion of the Willing in the Iraq conflict. By which I mean, he dissected and refuted the shabby logic that was presented as the raison d'etre for war. That he had been largely proven right was no comfort to him. That his colleagues at the top failed to heed any lessons only shows him up all the more as a giant amongst pigmies.

Time Out

Swimming is pretty close to my favourite physical activity, and since I have relatively close access to a 50 metre outdoor heated pool, and because the winter weather is so balmy, well, thats how I spent part of my morning. If I could put into words my feelings about the blue of the sky and the way the water seems to carress with every stroke....but that's just impossible.

Nadia went with her mum today to help out at work. Something to do with answering the phones and making coffee for everyone. She left feeling a little queasy and came back feeling much the same. Poor thing! Will it be eight more months of the same? I hope not for her sake. I try to be a good house-husband but nothing can really compensate for what's going on inside her body.

I rang our old boss Stephanie in Japan yesterday and told her the good news. We bought Stephanie's little conversation school (long story!) in Japan last year and needed to let her know we would be returning to Japan later than expected - thanks to that impending little bundle of joy. We were also worried about certain rules we had read about whereby children born out of wedlock encountered 'difficulties', particularly at a local level. Should we rush off to the registry office straight away? Would anyone in Japan do the maths? She seemed to think that there wouldn't be any problems so long as the knot was tried before birth. Hmm we'll see....

The Times

Its been a very interesting week or two.

Firstly, I found out my partner, Nadia, was pregnant. On my way back from the shops, I found her wandering up to the doctor. She produced a sheet of paper with Japanese script and a strange little strip of paper sticky-taped to the centre. I began reading the hiragana (slowly), then I had a flashback concerning the paper strip. January...Japan...pregnancy test.... began scrolling across my inner eye, just long enough for me to grasp the key elements.

I think I was in shock for a while; Nadia administering warms fluids to me as I sat in uncharacteristic silence.

Later, we walked up to the doctor together.

We have planned to have a baby for some months now, so it really should not have come as any kind of shock. But the funny thing is, it does, and there's nothing that can prepare you for that news. But its good news and Im very happy.

Let's Try Again

I wrote out a rather lengthy opening blog this morning, then saved it as a draft. Alas, the draft has gone into the ether, perhaps never to return.

I started by reflecting on the 60th aniversary of the Hiroshima bombing, digressing to a journey I made there three years ago. That got me thinking somewhat about war in general and the Iraq imbroglio in particular. Musing about missing WMD's and mendacious politicians just got me worked up, so I jumped tack again and wondered aloud whether Francis Fukuyama had repented of his view that 'history had ended'. Not likely, I suspect.

So I've saved you the trouble of wading through this glutinous mess by way of short summary, which I trust will be published........