It seems to me that we are in a bit of lull at the moment. The dreaded Covid has been temporarily tamed and in most Australian states, things are returning to a kind of normal. We cannot be certain, however, that it won't return with equal force.

Meanwhile, the world economy has tanked and getting out of that hole will preoccupy political leaders of all stripes for the next half dozen years. The dark spirit that is Climate Change remains, as always, a looming presence. There is a hot contradiction between these two entities. If we stoke up the same old economy as before, then the climate will get worse, faster. On the other hand, if we decide that climate mitigation should come first, then a slower economic revival will likely ensue.

It is really a matter of short term thinking. Political leaders respond to their national audiences and promise improved standards of living and economic growth. It is hard to square such promises with doing the hard stuff around climate action, which would probably dip GDP for some time to come. The short term is likely to win then.

So this is the lull. We have choices, but where will we jump?

It amazes me that the 45th President of the United States only trails his Democratic Party rival by half a dozen points in most opinion polls. Sure this is a sufficient margin for him to lose office. But only 6 or 7 points?

It strikes me that a person who demonstrates such a wilful unfitness for office through both word and deed should be so close to being re-elected (538 have him at about 25% chance of winning) is extraordinary. One might have reasonably imagined that those who did vote for 45 the first time round purely out of a dislike of Hillary Clinton or a desire to give the finger to the Establishment would now be having second thoughts. Such as not voting at all.

But apparently not, or at least, not many of them are. This does not augur well for humanity - that there are enough folks who are willing to shoot themselves in the foot, twice. When things go pear-shaped in a small state, the consequences are largely local. When they happen in a superpower, the effects ripple out, often gaining strength as they do. They cannot be ignored.

I am not much given to reading science fiction. I don't dislike the genre, rather, I have had too much other stuff to read to pay it much heed. Having said that, I have only just finished an audiobook of Arthur C. Clarke's, Rendezvous with Rama. I came to this tome by way of an interest in science speculation, especially the concept of generation ships and O'Neill Cylinders.

Rama is an O'Neill Cylinder for all intents and purposes. This kind of structure is a very large spaceship, as big as a city, which rotates about an axis, allowing for a kind of artificial gravity to exist through centripetal force. Within it's curving walls are rivers, cities and plains, permitting something like normal habitation and settlement to take place. The Ramans, who do not appear in the book, have journeyed for hundreds of thousands of years and have entered our Solar System. A team is dispatched to investigate.

Clarke has a vibrant imagination and his writing is situated within the realm of science possible, rather than pure science fiction. His prose style is somewhat flat, plodding and particular, with undeveloped characters at every turn. Still, it's a very interesting book and worth a read.

It made me sit up and think again about Oumuamua, the interstellar object that passed through our Solar System three years ago and caused considerable excitement. More than likely it is a natural object, though there is an outside chance that it has 'alien' origins. That would be a once in a million thing if it were true, given how vast space is and how unlikely the chances of intelligent life being extant in our cosmic neighbourhood.

Not Rama

Courtesy of NASA

You might have guessed it already, but I'm not a huge fan of a lot of modern architecture. There are some contemporary buildings both large and small that I do like, but many that grace the skylines of cities around the world are dreadful. Inside, they may be comfortable, air-conditioned and bright, nice places to work, no doubt, but nothing can shake off the sheer awfulness of their exterior presence.

Australia has it's fair share of these sky-piecing shards. The CBD's are full of them, all clamouring for attention in the most brazen manner. Beauty is in the eye, yes, but it would take a wrecking ball to improve these pretentious monsters of glass and steel. Razing them to the ground would be a mercy.

Yet, more and more are planned and of an increasingly intrusive height. Soon the urban landscape will be filled with these follies, huge silver fingers jutting from their surrounds. Alas.

The autumn Grand Sumo Tournament in Tokyo has begun with the same anomalous atmosphere as before, with crowds restricted to 25% capacity. There is no cheering allowed - applause only please! Now, this is all very sensible given the way Covid is transmitted and I suppose we are lucky that there is a tourney at all. But it certainly puts a dampener on what is usually a vigorous display of noise and emotion from the mostly Japanese audience.

This basho is noteworthy for a couple of other reasons too. Both of the yokozuna have withdrawn through injury. That is always a little disappointing for fans. But it does give lower ranking wrestlers a better shot at winning the Emperor's Cup. Another interesting feature of this tournament thus far are the number of matta, or false starts.

A sumo bout begins by mutual consent, with both wrestlers touching the dohyo with their fists prior to clashing at the tachi-ai. Matta have happened repeatedly in the tournament so far, often multiple times in the one bout. It may be that the rikishi are not getting the kind of practice that they would get under normal circumstances. Perhaps its the lack of atmosphere. So, their timing is out.

As to performances in the ring, a number of wrestlers are tied for top position. Takakeisho is looking particularly strong as is Shodai. But there are a bevy of strong contenders and I will surprised if it does not go down to the wire.

I like travelling by train and do at least one long commute a week. I also like buses and have used them since I was a little boy. Just now I have hopped off a bus from Springwood which delivered me seamlessly to Hazelbrook Station.

Back when I was very young, the buses were somewhat different. The ones that I took from Rose Bay Public home were old and seemed barely able to rouse themselves once passengers had boarded and settled. I remember the conductor who issued a paper ticket from a leather pouch, the rear exit which had no door, and the mysterious climb to the top deck. Once up there the clapped-out suspension appeared to be constantly in crisis, the bus swaying like a ship in a swell.

Ascending the long steep incline that is Old South Head Rd was always a bit of a lottery, for when the driver changed to a lower gear, the slightest mistake on the clutch threatened to stall the engine. Sometimes we would wait in silence before the motor gasped back into action, the whole chassis shaking as if gripped by St Vitus Dance.

Oh, but what fun!

A restored example of an AEC Regent III, exactly as I remember it.

"The Sea of Faith was
Once, too, at the full, and round earth's shore
Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furled.

But now I only hear

Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar"

So wrote Matthew Arnold in his masterful poem, 'Dover Beach.' The son of a liberal Protestant, Arnold's faith was challenged by the scholarship and scientific headwinds of the 19th Century, leaving him with little alternative but agnosticism. He nevertheless saw the value in a Christian faith shorn of its metaphysics, a kind of Christian humanism, if you like.

I can understand the deep crisis that descended upon people of faith at that time, given just how much conventional belief and wisdom was being challenged by new knowledge. We have the benefit of time passing now, allowing for a measure of reflection on issues  that Arnold could not have reasonably considered. It doesn't have to have be one or the other. I don't have any problem with God or science, no matter who argues otherwise.

 A cursory study of history from any period will confirm that life is full of chance events and that human folly is as common as human brilliance. There is no straight line of progress morally or ethically, improvement comes in fits and starts and sometimes goes backwards. Memories are short and for any lesson to be learned, it must be repeated over and over again. Even then, a few generations passing can induce a kind of amnesia.

So it is little wonder than 2020 is widely touted as a kind of super annus horribilis, one that has wreaked havoc on the human experiment. To be sure, Covid 19 was and is a clear threat to the health of millions. It is a huge economic cost, particularly to the less well off, who typically bear the brunt of any change for the worse. It has generated much anxiety.

This plays out almost endlessly in the media and on social media, where anyone and everyone has a platform for comment and opinion, for better or worse. I think that is kinder to say nothing than moan about the loss of personal liberty, the inability to carry on a particular lifestyle or to support outlandish conspiracy theories. I have talked about freedom and license before and don't want to go over old ground.

Which brings me back to the study of history. You can set your mind better at rest if you have an idea of what has come before and how, for the most part, there is nothing new under the sun. Technology may challenge that maxim but it is unlikely that unmediated human nature will ever attain the kind of higher plain that lets us ignore the past, or make it somehow irrelevant.

pale clouds rise -
the dun valleys warming so,
and oh, a jasmine lane!

Yesterday was Father's Day in Australia and for once, the whole family, including Tom, went out for lunch. Not wanting to stray far, we went to the same Thai restaurant that hosted our wedding reception some four years ago. When I think back about the amount of administrative work I have done since that blessed betrothal - visa applications, police checks, drivers licenses, more visa applications, resumes, medicals and so forth, then I think it is wise that one never attempts to contemplate that endless stream of form-creation and form-filling in advance. That way lies madness.

This morning on a walk I saw hundreds, possibly thousands of small birds swarming, flying in short darting patterns and swoops, from east to west. I could not tell whether they were wrens or swallows, each birds velocity and eccentric manoeuvring rending it a blur. None came to rest. The Spring is definitely upon us. The birds have said so.