It's A Great Time to be Deaf

One hears fascinating conversations nowadays. In days gone by people used to have quiet conversations as befitted something that was supposed to be private. In those days an eavesdropper was a wretched furtive soul who lurked at keyholes and pressed a glass up against the wall. A grubby raincoat was implied even if not actually worn.

Nowadays an eavesdropper is anyone who just happens to be in the general vicinity of the conversation whether they want to be one or not. I have just finished eating dinner at a cafe (no not Satellite, it isn't open in the evenings). The pasta was delicious and the conversation was fascinating. Not my conversation, I was dining alone, I mean the conversation of the two women at the table next to me. For half an hour I was regaled with the story of a third woman's collection of drug addictions and her hapless mother's attempts to minimise, conceal and deny those issues. I got enough information to testify at this woman's trial should it come to that. After all the juice had been sucked from that particular piece of chemically dependent fruit they went on to cheerfully trash the tackiness and general lack of taste of another friends wedding. I must admit green and blue bridesmaid dresses don't sound particularly appealing.

The only thing worse than hearing an entire conversation in this fashion is not hearing the entire conversation. A few weeks ago I was waiting at the traffic lights when a woman walked past engaged in an animated conversation on her mobile. As she passed by me I distinctly heard the words "masturbatory fantasies" before she was gone out of earshot. I had to restrain myself from chasing after her and tearing the earpiece from her head so that I could get the rest of that story.

I've mentioned before that the increasing loss of privacy in the modern world seems to be largely optional. Those people who desire their privacy will gain it in great measure simply by not spilling their guts in public. There was a time when police had to gather evidence on criminals, now all they have to do is friend them on facebook and wait. We walk in a cloud of noise and much of that noise is everybody else discussing the most intimate details of their life at a level usually reserved for horserace announcers. The hearing impaired among us are luckier than they know.

My personal opinion? I think the mother should stop covering for Marie and get her into rehab as soon as possible.

I'll Have a Double Helping of Mists and a Side Order of Mellow Fruitfulness

Summer has fled shrieking from our shores and has left Autumn in its place as a sort of consolation prize. I'm quite fond of Autumn, it doesn't have the harsh stridency of Summer, the icy malevolence of Winter or the fickle, slightly slutty, teasing of Spring. Autumn is the season you don't have to dress up for. If Autumn drops round and you're wearing a tracksuit and ugg boots, that's just fine with Autumn. You can sprawl on your couch watching DVDs with Autumn, just try doing that with any other season. Summer would be all "Come on, let's go to the beach", Winter would just stare at you and sharpen the kitchen knives in a suggestive manner while Spring would agree to watch DVDs but wouldn't like anything you put on and would conduct a loud phone conversation with her best friend through the entire movie.

Autumn has something of the appeal of an elegant hotel just a little past its prime. The luxury is still there but you don't feel bad about putting your feet up on the furniture. There is a hint of decay about Autumn, a premonition of time running out. At the back of this is the knowledge that Autumn is inevitably followed by Winter, that all the life we see will soon be dead. Perhaps Autumn could best be described as a diplomat. Some smartarse once described diplomacy as "Telling someone to go to Hell in such a way that they look forward to the trip". Autumn makes me look forward to Winter.

With Winter as its climax Autumn should be gloomy and oppressive but it carries the gloom and oppression with such style that you enjoy it anyway. The Titanic may be sinking but the band is pretty damned good. I think I identify with Autumn; my Summer is over, the darkness draws nearer with each passing day. There is more time behind me than ahead and the decay is there to see if you look but I'm still somewhere worth staying and I don't mind if you put your feet up on the furniture.

Autumn is altogether my favourite season; Summer is glaring realism, Winter is harsh edged brutalism while Spring is a kaleidoscope of ephemeral and irrelevant fads that fade just when you might get interested in them. Autumn is baroque; ornate, elegant, doomed. And I like baroque.

Shock and Awe Something Else

One of the problems with writing a blog full of gleeful inaccuracies and opinionated stupidity is that sometimes you get caught out. And when you do get caught out there are your words on the internet for somebody else to wave in your face. I got caught out over the entire No Fly Zone over Libya issue. I thought there was no way it would happen then with the metaphorical ink still wet on the figurative page of my blog tomahawk missiles started breaking half the windows in Tripoli.

The UN, the US, the Arab League and the less wretched members of NATO leapt into action with a vigour and unity of purpose that lasted almost until the first missile was fired. After which it all fell apart of course.

Russia and China, whose abstentions permitted to UN Security Council to behave with what might look like decision if you didn't look too closely, hedged their bets by criticising an action they could have stopped with a single word. It was interesting to hear Russian president Dmitry Medvedev using his once a year free pass to criticise his prime minister but apart from that there was nothing new. The Arab League was all in favour of a no fly zone until it looked like someone might actually implement one; now they're less keen. Apparently they aren't happy that the first thing the United States did was take steps to ensure that Qaddafi couldn't implement a no fly zone on them. The Americans learnt a long time ago that in warfare it is better if the casualties happen to somebody else. It would take a nastier and more cynical mind than I possess to suggest that the Arab League wouldn't exactly saturate its pillow with tears if the US took a couple of score aircraft casualties by attempting to impose a no fly zone without suppressing Qaddafi's air defences first.

The United States meanwhile is attempting to palm the whole business off on to somebody else as soon as possible so that they can fade discreetly into the background. Their essential position is "We've knocked him down, now somebody else can kick him" or to put it another way "We broke it, you buy it." Good luck with that aim guys, the squabbling has already started. Britain and, I think, France want NATO to lead the effort. Turkey and the Arab League disagree. Germany wants nothing to do with any of it and Luxembourg has announced that they could not possibly give their support unless the operation was under the auspices of NATO. Well god forbid that France or Britain should have to face Qaddafi's hordes (actually barely a single horde) without the serried ranks of Luxembourg firm by their side. Lets face it, Luxembourg's only contribution to warfare is to occasionally provide the venue but Libya won the bid this time.

The real problem the European leaders face is the same one the Roman senators faced after the assassination of Caligula. Having been deprived of real power decades ago by Augustus when the time came for them to step up and reassert themselves as leaders of the "republic" they couldn't do it. They had forgotten how. The only thing they could think of to do was offer power to another emperor. If the United States thinks it can slide out from under this one it has a serious disillusionment coming.

Now, lets see how much of this entry remains accurate for as much as forty eight hours.

It Would be Totally Useless if it Existed at All

In another entry in was has turned into a semi regular series on the wacky hijinks got up to by the Hadron Supercollider and its staff I have exciting news. Time travel is just around the corner. Or, to be more exact, hypothetical time travel is just around a hypothetical corner if a hypothetical particle called the Higgs singlet behaves the way scientists expect it to always assuming the particle exists at all and we can make it. One can't help think certain scientists have a new career in political speech writing waiting for them if they ever get tired of chasing non existent sub atomic particles down twenty seven kilometres of tunnels.

Apparently the Higgs singlet (it's like the Higgs boson only different) may (or may not) be able to jump out of the point in time and space it currently occupies and reappear at a different point in time and space, possibly. It is further hypothesised that if scientists can control the production of Higgs singlets (so far they haven't managed to make one) they might be able to use them to send messages to either the past or the future. They could probably also send them to right now but that wouldn't justify the size of the research grants.

I'm not particularly impressed with the concept of sending messages to the future. I can do that myself. In fact anybody can. Since we have not yet got transmission time for messages down to zero any message sent arrives in the future at least relative to when it was sent. I can do that without a Higgs singlet, Higgs mitten or even a Higgs slutty red stiletto (you just knew a clothing joke had to come somewhere). What I'm doing with Mr Higgs' slutty red stilettos is none of your business.

Sending messages to the past is a little more impressive I admit. I personally am writing this entire blog entry solely because a letter turned up from myself three months into the future telling me that writing it was the only way to avoid being torn apart by an octopus. To avoid tentaclely doom I decided to get writing.

Although technically impressive sending messages to the past is likely to be an exercise in futility anyway. Either the recipients ignored our advice in which case they're idiots or they took it in which case we're idiots. Frankly I fail to see the point of any time travelling message longer than "Sorry!"

I wonder if the brains trust coming up with these heady ideas of time travelling junk mail have stopped to consider that even if we do succeed in sending messages to the past they're not going to be able to read them. People in the past don't even know what a Higgs singlet is (I'm not entirely clear myself), they certainly don't know how to detect one if it did turn up. If we do discover a way of sending messages through time the very first thing we're going to get is an announcement saying "you have nine hundred million new messages". Then we will have to go through the weary process of deleting all the ones that were for anybody further back in time than ourselves while wonder why our future selves talked so damned much; and most of it is going to be spam anyway.

At some point we are going to have to stop inventing better means of communication and give some time to think of something worth communicating. But then who am I to talk?

Get Your Beatification in Now to Avoid Armageddon

May 21st, remember the date. On that day the world comes to an end. At least this is according to the calculations of Family Radio a Christian ministry based in (do I need to say it?) the United States. Apparently their crack team of theological mathematicians (those who can both read the bible and do sums) has determined that the apocalypse will occur on May 21st 2011. That's one in the eye for all of the idiots who were relying on Mayan superstition to give them until 2012. Meanwhile the premier of New South Wales is probably wishing it had come a month earlier as actual Armageddon is the only thing that will save her from the electoral version of the same come Saturday.

Placing an actual date on Armageddon is never a good idea, particularly if you're religious. For starters there is always the danger you'll be wrong and then you're going to look like a complete dick. Even worse you might be right (as the Aztecs were) and then the consequences could be even more dire. If you are right everybody will blame you for the whole event and that might make your last hours a little unpleasant. Still being wrong is probably worse, as the clock ticks over to May 22nd there are going to be a group of people standing around looking at their watches and avoiding each others gaze. Unless the world does end in which case I suppose they'll be delighted.

Actually history suggests that predicting Armageddon is no bad thing. In the past even when the time has come and passed a little backing and filling about how god decided to spare us for a little while longer tends to keep the masses satisfied. Let's face it, you're not exactly preaching to people with a full deck. If they were prepared to believe you when you said the end of the world was coming they'll probably swallow any excuse you provide for it being late. When all is said and done who can complain about not dying in a fiery hellscape anyway?

Still on things religious it would appear that the pope is going to beatify his predecessor. This seems appropriate since the only way a Catholic could avoid beatification during the pontificate of John Paul 2 was by committing suicide. One can imagine the throng in Heaven parading their beatifications while John Paul sits sadly wondering what the hell is taking Ratzinger so long. You'd better hurry up Josef, you've only got until May 21st.

Incidentally my spell checker insists on spelling Armageddon with a capital "A". Is Armageddon a proper noun? I didn't think so but I will accept the testimony of anyone with a vague comprehension of grammar.

No Flies On Libya

Things are falling to bits in Libya or, from another perspective, the glorious forces of the beloved Colonel Qaddafi are driving the drug addled, Al Qaida supporters who dared to rebel against his munificence from their positions. Meanwhile various world leaders have taken the opportunity to display either studied indifference or hand wringing impotence. So as you can see its business as usual on the world stage.

The Arab League and the Gulf Cooperation Council have both announced that they think a no fly zone would be a good idea. I agree, the flies in Libya are horrid. The leaders of France and Britain both agreed that a no fly zone would be a really good idea until it dawned on them that the United States wasn't taking the hint and they might have to do it themselves. Since then their statements have been rather more circumspect. The US itself is currently attempting to straddle both the indifference and impotence stools and is in danger of falling between them.

So what is to be done? Implement the damned no fly zone of course and if Qaddafi challenges it, crush him like a bug. Of course this wont happen. Demands for such things tend to come loudest from those least likely to be shouldering responsibility. Australia's foreign minister has been particularly vociferous in this regard. The Arab League also covered itself in glory by demanding a no fly zone while at the same time stating that they wouldn't do it themselves and probably wouldn't even help pay the costs of whoever did.

The nations of western Europe, too, are great at making magnificent statements of moral intent coupled with resolute inaction. Sadly for all these great humanitarians the only nation that might actually summon up the balls to do something about it isn't interested. Still scarred from its last couple of attempts at proactive diplomacy in the Muslim world the US isn't just not taking the hint, they're not even taking phone calls.

And there the matter will rest because the best opportunity for a no fly zone is already past. With Qaddafi charging for Benghazi like Rommel on a bad face day what's needed now is not a no fly zone but active air support. Good luck getting that from the mish mash of pusillanimous wretchedness that is western Europe.

The sad truth is that western Europe is an old folks home for countries. Once they were mighty but now they are sad, decrepit and virtually senile; listened to only out of pity by their younger and more vigorous sibling in North America. They may jabber as much as they like, without America to back them they are nothing and the rest of the world (including Qaddafi) knows it.

The saddest part about this sad truth? While there are some nations that are genuinely impotent in this regard (such as Australia) the nations of Europe are impotent simply because they are too afraid to fuck. Even now in their utter decline Great Britain or France singly, never mind together, have the muscle and the firepower to grab Qaddafi by the hair and feed him head first into a meatgrinder. They're just too scared to do it. That's what transforms their posturing from the merely pathetic into the genuinely despicable.

There will be reasons of course. The United States has shown exactly what can go wrong when you stick your military nose into another country and no doubt the mess that would follow the fall of Qaddafi would be pretty ugly for a while, but what's happening in Libya is pretty ugly right now. Sooner or later Qaddafi will go and when he does those who replace him will remember who helped and who stood aside and did nothing.

UPDATE

Hmmm a no fly zone from the UN after all, it must be suffering delusions of adequacy. A week or so late but what the heck. If they manage it well they might get it in place just after Qaddafi has mopped up the survivors.

Is it Called Twitter Because its for Twits?

This officially sucks. I have been running this blog for over a year now dishing up a stream of mindless, semi coherent and occasionally amusing drivel. I thought I was getting somewhere and then Charlie Sheen comes along and without any effort just blows me out of the water.

My own personal bitterness aside, isn't it great that Charlie can be flashed all over the world in a matter of seconds? Back in the old days every village had to provide its own idiot, now we only need one. No doubt some technology hating Luddites out there will yearn for the days when such things were home produced. "Charlie Sheen," they will say, "is taking bread from the mouths of honest local idiots and causing unemployment amongst crazed loons everywhere."

It's about time these killjoys learnt to move with the times. Sure it will be tough for a while but I'm sure that with a little retraining the redundant idiots will find gainful employment in either the drug addict or homeless crazy person industries. Besides what is Charlie to do? He has a couple of ex wives (proof of the greater fool theory), a cocaine dealer and a porn star to support. The man must do something.

Isn't it amazing how the world changes though? There was a time when if one came across a dishevelled, substance abusing nut job one either gave them a couple of dollars or doused them in petrol and set them on fire depending on ones personal proclivities. Nowadays we follow them on twitter and nobody has to be doused in anything.

Twitter is awesome as well. Before twitter mindless, boring people would take up hours of your time droning on about inconsequential crap nobody but them gave a rats about whereas now they have to limit it to one hundred and forty characters or less. You can't tell me that isn't progress. Nowadays when somebody wants to tell me about the progress of their hernia operation I just tell them to get a twitter account.

Facebook, twitter, netcasts (I must admit I thought that last one was a fishing term) and the like have rendered a priceless service to the human race. They have made privacy so much easier. If you want privacy nowadays all you have to do is turn off your computer. It's not like anybody is actually going to visit you or anything. They'll simply assume you've vanished into thin air.

Wait a minute, if you turn off your computer you won't read my blog. Please, please, please don't turn off your computer. I need your validation, without you I don't exist. I promise I'll try and be more like Charlie Sheen in the future, or less; whichever you want. Just keep reading please, I'm begging you.

I love you.